BloodMeld: Beginnings - A Moonlight Story
by Goodfella73
Summary: A Los Angeles detective is drawn into the world of vampirism as she joins a special, covert group. Their mission: to hunt and take down the most dangerous vampires in the world.
1. Title page

_From the writer of the "Moonlight" fan fiction trilogy comes the story of a group of individuals from different walks of life; a decorated but disgraced police officer not used to the team concept, a security specialist set in her ways, a computer hacktivist always looking for a new cause, and her brother, a military veteran on the wrong side of the law._

 _These four will be brought together to form an unique team. A team to battle the dark and unknown …_

 _BloodMeld: Beginnings_

 _A "Moonlight" Story_

 _By Goodfella73_

All characters of _BloodMeld: Beginnings_ are the property of the author. Any use of characters and situations from this work without the expressed permission of the author is forbidden.

All characters of _Moonlight_ are the property of Ron Kolsow and Trevor Munson. Any characters and situations of the show used within this work are used for entertainment purposes only.

Please "favorite" me as your favorite author and check out my other works….

 **The "Moonlight" fan fiction trilogy**

Containment

Purge

Darkest of Days

Awakenings: A _Moonlight_ short story

 **Lucifer**

Hot Tub High School Reunion

 **Arrow**

Reflections

An Interview With The New Mayor of Star City


	2. Prologue

_Prologue_

An unmarked police car came to a stop off the road of the expansive cemetery grounds. The driver's door opened, and a young woman exited the vehicle with a small bouquet of plastic flowers in hand. Her long brown hair fluttered in the light breeze as she closed the door and pulled her long jacket tightly around her. She looked straight ahead for a long moment before marching forward.

Her journey came to a end at a long granite grave marker at her feet. Built for two nameplates, only one was bolted on its surface. She bent down and picked up several leaves covering the copper plate, tossing them to the side before removing the faded flowers in the vase centered on the marker. She dropped the fresh flowers in and spread them around inside before straightening.

"Hi, Dad," she said, smiling down on the marker. "Sorry I didn't make it out this way yesterday. Turns out that I had to come out here today anyway, so I didn't think you would mind if I broke our little rule about keeping to a schedule just once."

She looked off to the far side of the cemetery over a hundred yards away for a few seconds before back down at the marker. "I don't think this has ever happened before, me conducting business at a cemetery, but it was the only way I could finish this without anyone getting hurt. I promise I'll be out here on Sunday at our regular time."

She lowered into a crouch once again and pressed two fingers to her lips before lowering them to the raised Marine Corps emblem on the nameplate. "Gotta go to work, Dad. I love you."

She straightened and turned back to her car with the flowers she removed from the vase. Instead of opening the driver's door, she walked around to the front passenger's door and opened it. The flowers were deposited on the floor beside her handbag which she pulled out and slid over her shoulder. Closing the door, she began to walk past the markers on the ground to the far side of the cemetery.

"Why the hell did I come out here in a dress?" she muttered to herself, glancing down at her dark blue outfit with matching high heel shoes. "If he has me out here running, I am so screwed."

Her destination was a small canopy beside a granite memorial for fallen veterans. A row of tall oak trees separated the narrow road from the closest plots. Several cars were pulled off to the side of the road behind a hearse and limousine. Further away, ten men and women were seated facing an ivory colored coffin underneath a canopy, with nearly two dozen onlookers behind them as an officiant recite scripture from the Bible in his hands.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone as she stopped underneath a tree. Surveying the gathering one final time, she nodded with satisfaction and sent a text message just as the officiant concluded the services.

Several members of the family were speaking with onlookers as she walked up. She did not walk over to them, though she was careful to give each one a cursory glance as she made her way down the row of trees to the very end, and the second reason for today's visit to the cemetery.

An elderly man stood alone with his hands clasped behind him holding a shiny wooden cane by its handle, his head lowered and eyes closed as if in prayer. He did not move as she softly stepped to his side, though she knew he had to be aware of her presence.

She bowed her head for several seconds before deciding she had waited long enough. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Pruitt."

The man raised his head and turned his attention to the woman beside him. He shook his head in amusement and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I see that I can't fool you people like I used to," he whispered. "Did you finally get your promotion?"

She nodded. "I did. Two months ago. And while we're on the subject, you didn't happen to send me two dozen roses that day, did you?"

The old man gave her a sly smile. "I might have placed an order. In any case, It was well deserved."

Their conversation was not alerting anyone gathered just yet, so she decided to ask the question that nagged at her for the past three days. "Why chance it, Clayton? You were out of our reach for three years. My office had no idea where you were. You risked everything by coming back into town."

The man gestured over to the gathering of mourners gathered by the canopy. "That was my oldest grandchild they buried over there. Her parents, my son and his wife, they were killed in a car accident several years ago. She was my favorite, my Angela."

He turned and stepped past the trees onto the road behind them. She gave the funeral gathering one last cautious glance before following.

"First to graduate from college. Always determined to make it on her own in her own way. Oh, she had an idea of what I was involved in, but she never let on about it. Never told anyone. But she always was the first to tell me there was another way."

The woman nodded. "Sounds like she was very special to you."

"Yes, she was indeed." The elderly man took a walkway path cutting through a portion of the cemetery towards the woman's car. "But enough about me. How did you know we would be here today? We're obviously a few miles from Los Angeles."

"Yeah, we both know you're outside of my jurisdiction, Clayton." The woman slid her free hand into her jacket pocket. "I've been tracking your money for a couple of months. Offshore accounts. Accounts that haven't been touched since you left L.A."

Pruitt looked over his shoulder at the woman in admiration. "Really? You could have just as easily seized those funds. But you left them alone to try to draw me out. That was almost … impressive. But still doesn't explain how did you know to come here."

"I'm getting to that part." She stepped in front of the old man. "When my financial gurus found out the accounts went active last week, I immediately scouted out your family. That's when I found out about your granddaughter. It didn't give me an idea of where you were, but it told me to expect you."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I did hope that we could have avoided … this."

Pruitt looked into the woman's eyes carefully. "Your sentiment is sincere, and I do appreciate it. I have a question, and I hope you are honest with me."

She nodded in consent.

"If I am not inclined to go with you peacefully, what would be your plan on taking me in? I'm old, yes, but obviously I have reliable resources. Resources even you are still not aware of."

"I learned from my father never to show my hand." She took a step back, sliding her hand back into her jacket pocket. "But I have high hopes that I don't have to go that route.

"Your record was never one of violence. The people you employed? Minor incidents, but no one died. I'm here on good faith that we can keep that stat line intact by coming along with me, get into that car, and turn yourself in. I have a line to the attorney general. I'll walk you in myself."

The old man placed his cane in front of him and smiled. "I believe you are here in good faith. I -"

She ducked behind the closest tree as the crack of a rifle echoed throughout the cemetery, her right arm stinging as if it was on fire. Her handbag was dropped on the walkway during her scamper out of her reach.

Ignoring the pain in her arm and the salvo of rifle fire, she pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket, relieved that it was still connected.

"All units, move in!" she yelled.

#

Ten minutes later, it was over.

With a tourniquet tied over her upper arm, she walked among the bodies of the dozen shooters who were a part of the funeral party for the young woman. Several submachine guns were scattered on the ground along with hundreds of shells. Blood splatter painted the once green grass, turning it into a glistening sheet of crimson.

The only thing that remained unscathed from the bloodbath was the casket, already lowered in the ground before the shooting began. The woman looked down at it in stony silence for a minute before walking the path she had started on mere moments ago.

The path ended on the walkway where a body laid covered with a blood-soaked sheet. A cane rested nearby.

She barely registered the footsteps closing in on her until a pair of hands gently guided her away, leaving a pool of blood where she stood.

#


	3. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

"I remember standing here three days ago in this very same spot behind my desk, pointing at you and telling you, 'Frankie, you are not to go anywhere near Clayton Pruitt.' Actually, I know said it like this. 'Detective Ford, you are to stay away from Clayton Pruitt, and that is an order.' You know we handed that investigation into Pruitt embezzling from the city government off to the Febs months ago, and they warned us, meaning _you_ off."

Franchesca Ford adjusted the sling holding her right arm in place for the tenth time since she sat down under Captain Alvin Street's withering glare as he stood behind his desk. "Captain, it was my day off. I went to the cemetery to visit my father's grave like I've been doing every week for the past two months. I look up and Pruitt is standing off to the side of his granddaughter's funeral. I walk up to him to try to talk him in peacefully, we talk for a few minutes, and next thing you know, someone is shooting up the place."

Street sighed as he moved several pads around on his desk. "And Victorville P.D. being on the scene so quickly was not your doing? With a S.W.A.T. team no less?"

Ford shrugged. "I was wondering about that myself. I spoke to the team commander. Turns out they train every Monday less than a quarter mile down the road. Breaching tactics mostly. They always stay on comms in case special situations come up." She played with the arm if her chair. "It was a good thing they were close by when I called 911."

Street shook his head and fell back into his chair, struggling to decide whether to laugh or yell in anger. "What am I going to do with you, Ford? You're one of my best detectives. Easily surpassing detectives who have been at the job fifteen, twenty years longer than you. You've won the admiration and respect of nearly everyone here, myself included."

He jabbed a finger at the woman sitting before her. "But if you think I'm going to sit here and believe this mess about how everything went down at the cemetery, then you have no respect for my office. My authority. _Me._ Internal Affairs wants an investigation into this because obviously someone at the funeral wanted Pruitt dead."

Street stared at Ford unblinkingly for several seconds before rising to his feet. "Detective Franchesca Ford, you're on thirty days' administrative leave effective immediately. I need your badge and your gun."

Ford shot up to her feet in anger. "But sir, -"

"Badge and gun. _Now."_

A shadow of defeat fell across her face. With her good hand, she reached down at her belt and removed her badge. After setting it on the desk, she reached across her body with her left arm and unholstered her weapon. "Excuse me if I don't clear it," she said, holding it out to the captain by the barrel.

Street took it and ejected the clip and extra round before depositing all the items into a desk drawer. "As your godfather and your father's old partner and best friend, I'm asking you to make the most of this time. Spend it with your mother. You two have barely spoken with each other since Jack died."

He closed the drawer and looked over at her. "As your boss, I don't want you even thinking about coming in these offices until your month is up. I'll do what I can to clear everything up with I.A. and the Febs, but you keep your nose clean and mouth shut."

#

Alexandra Sanders nodded her thanks to the bartender as she accepted the glass of bourbon. "This is a blessing in disguise, Frankie. It's time to get out. Come work for me."

Frankie winced as if she bit into something hard. "Alex, I have been with the department for eight years. Fastest in history to make detective. I'm on the fast track to make captain before I'm forty. I can't throw away that line of security just like that."

The two women lounged in high-back leather chairs in an enclosed corner of the History Cigar Bar, one of the city's most exclusive establishments. Rows of wine bottles sat on display next to cases of cigars behind a mix of glass and oak wood.

Sanders took a sip of her drink before swiping a lock of her reddish gold hair behind her ear. "True. Your career is certainly unparalleled. And your father would be proud. But I don't think the colonel would have wanted you to be tied down by the bureaucracy and politics when it comes to investigating government officials and embezzlers. He would want you to work the case from beginning to end. That's why I had my people keep an eye on those accounts of Pruitt's for you for so long."

Frankie's right eyebrow arched slightly. "Speaking of that, no one will be able to trace your handiwork back to you or your company, will they?"

Sanders shook his head. "If they do, then I've been hiring the wrong people. Nope. Only three people knew what we were doing, and one of them runs my houses."

Relaxed, Frankie reached for two cigars enclosed in a humidifier. "You know, it still creeps me out that you have former MI-6 fixing you drinks, cooking your Thanksgiving turkeys, and buying M4s and smoke grenades," she said, handing one to Sanders.

Sanders smiled dreamily as she used a cutter on the end of the cigar. "That man can sure deep fry a bird. All of those other things are a plus."

Frankie grinned as she went to light hers, but Sanders' cell phone vibrated for attention on the table. Sanders looked down at it and grimaced when she saw the number. "Excuse me for a minute," she said, hurriedly depositing her cigar into an ashtray and rising to her feet while scooping up her phone. "Special Projects is calling. I'm going to take it outside."

Sanders stepped through the glass door into the passageway and took her call. Frankie rose and took a strong puff of her cigar while flexing her right arm, now free of the constricting sling she wore most of the day. She winced slightly, but noted with some satisfaction her bicep muscle stretching and tightening with less pain.

The door opened and a young woman with long, wavy dark hair entered, beer bottle in hand. The designer ripped jeans, wife beater tank top, and expensive sneakers were in stark contrast to Frankie's matching blue silk blouse and trousers. She propped her right fist in her hip and gave Frankie a mock look of contempt. "Ford."

Frankie did her best to match the look but failed, snickering to herself as she shook her head. "Damn, Hayley. Would it kill you to dress up just a little when you go out? Do you even own a dress?"

Hayley Simms took a swig of her beer and shrugged. "I honestly don't know, Ford. I honestly don't know."

She fell into Sanders' unoccupied chair and reached for a cigar, running it under her nose once to take in its aroma. "Get off of my back, woman. I just got back in town and I needed to let the boss lady see something real quick before I went to the office."

"Really? You're setting up your Japanese offices already? I thought Alex was holding off on that."

Simms looked away, fiddling with her beer bottle. "Yeah, she is. At least until next year. No, this is something completely off books. I can't even talk about it."

Before Frankie could dig further, Sanders entered the private cubicle. "Looks good, Hayley," she said, handing Simms a tablet. "Niles will be waiting at the office for you. Give me a call when you get done, okay?"

"Copy that." Simms rose and stepped past Sanders to the door. "Good to see you again, Ford. Let's grab a beer soon."

She exited the cubicle as Sanders regained her seat and cigar. Frankie gave her an intent look. "What was that about?"

Sanders paused in relighting her cigar. She slowly lowered it as she looked over at her friend. "We've been best friends since Annapolis, right? Almost thirteen years?"

Frankie nodded.

"And except for when you told me that story about not sleeping with that bartender in Baltimore -,"

Frankie's hand shot up in the air like a missle. "Wait, _you_ slept with that bartender."

"We have never lied to each other," finished Sanders. She leaned over the side of her chair to Frankie, locking eyes with her. "I can't tell you what's going on because … it's complicated, so please don't make me lie to you, okay? I would much rather _not_ tell you than tell you something false and jeopardize our friendship."

Frankie stared into her friend's eyes and saw the serious intent there. She smiled and gave a small nod.

"Alright."

#

A young man stumbled drunkenly down a dark alley from a bar. He nearly tripped over a bag of trash laying on the wet asphalt, catching himself by grabbing hold of a railing running along the wall.

Deciding the alley was as good as place as any to relieve himself, he undid his pants.

He was so focused on the task at hand that he did not notice someone standing several feet away until he finished and turned around, noting a shadow slightly moving. He gave a sheepish grin.

"I hope you didn't see that."

The shadow came out into the open, and the grin changed to a sly smile. A ravishing brunette wearing a black raincoat cinched at the waist smiled at him.

"You look like you could use a ride."

The man paused for a second and then smiled.

"Sure."

#

Frankie walked across the street from the bar to the parking garage where her car was parked. She turned and waved to Sanders standing at the door before entering the walk-in gate for customers.

She avoided the enclosed stairwell and took the ramp to the topmost section, a habit of hers which gave her more time to think of what her friend had said earlier. She had no doubt that whatever Alex Sanders was involved in, it was not illegal. Frankie knew Sanders would not jeopardize her standing in her field or her freedom by participating in extralegal activities.

Finally coming up onto the ramp where her car was parked, she reached into her jacket for her keys. Before she pulled them out of her pocket, she heard a blood curdling scream coming from the topmost level just above her. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and hastily scrolling through her contacts while reaching down to her ankle.

"This is Detective Ford, badge number 2182 requesting assistance. Possible code 240 at parking garage across from History Cigar Bar on Figueroa."

Her backup pistol in hand from a concealed ankle holster, she sprinted up the ramp to the top level. It was relatively empty saved for a few vehicles spread throughout. Frankie disengaged the small penlight from her gun and aimed the beam in the corner of the level where the scream came from.

A woman knelt over someone laying on the ground beside a car, her head positioned around the area of his throat. She looked up at Frankie, blood oozing from her mouth, gray eyes shining through her black hair.

The sight before her nearly made Frankie take a step back. She quickly regained her composure and aimed her pistol at the woman. "L.A.P.D.! Let me see your hands!"

The woman quickly rose to her feet and stared at Frankie as if she was an insignificant nuisance. She almost bent back down to the man at her feet but Frankie took two steps forward. "Step away from him now!"

The growl that emulated from the woman as she straightened slightly deterred Frankie. Her aim wavered just enough for the woman jumped backwards, landing lightly on the ledge behind her. She shot Frankie a mock salute, and stepped backwards.

Frankie quickly ran to the ledge and trained her light down, thinking she was going to see the bloody, shattered body of the woman three stories below.

Instead, she saw people walking back and forth on the sidewalk, obviously clueless as to what transpired above them mere seconds ago. Her eyes scanned across the street at the bar and several stores still open and saw the same thing.

Frankie took a step away from the ledge and gathered her thoughts. What the hell did she just witnessed? Who was that woman? Where did she go? What was she doing with that man?

At that last thought, she turned around to check on the victim, stopping before she took one step.

The man was gone, leaving behind a blood soaked spot on the concrete where he laid.

#

The uniformed policeman gave Frankie a look full of skepticism. "Let me get this straight. The woman jumped several feet in the air, landed on the ledge, jumped again from there, and disappeared."

Frankie sighed as she crossed her arms. "That is what I saw, Pierce. I know it's hard to believe, but that is what I saw."

Officer Sam Pierce smirked as he transcribed in his notepad. A stout, balding veteran of the force, he arrived first on the scene and immediately chafed as Frankie began to give him orders on his beat. "Tell me, Detective. How much have you had to drink?"

If her pistol, now hidden away in her ankle holster was in her hand, Frankie would have probably put a round in the policeman's eye. She swallowed down her impatience and pointed to the blood on the concrete behind Pierce. "Is the CSI on the way? We need to get a sample to the lab and check for DNA to try to find who it was that was attacked."

"ETA is five minutes." Pierce closed his notebook and stifled a yawn. "I got everything I need, but you'll need to get with a sketch artist so we can get a picture of your quote on quote, _attacker_ on a BOLO."

Ford used the silence to throw a dig Pierce's way. "You would have had _something_ if you had followed through with my request for additional officers. They could have least closed off a perimeter. Instead, you sent them away. You gave that woman an opportunity to escape."

"My call as the ranking officer on the scene. You're nothing right now, Ford." Pierce waved her unfavorable condemnation away. "Rumor has it that you're suspended. You are a private citizen as far as I'm concerned anyway. You have no right to give any kind of orders at a crime scene."

The back and forth continued so intensely between detective and policeman that neither one noticed the door leading to the rear staircase opened wide enough for a new pair of eyes bearing witness to the argument.

Hayley Simms closed the door and went down the flight of stairs to the ground level. Once she was outside and sufficiently away from the parking garage, she Facetimed a call through her cell.

The frowning image of Alexandra Sanders appeared on the screen. "Where are you? I thought you would be at the office. Niles is waiting on you."

"Ran into a little problem across from the bar that needed to be cleaned up." Hayley glanced over her shoulder at the garage for a second as shouting from the top level increased in volume. "Ford was involved."

Sanders' eyes narrowed to slits. "I just left her maybe thirty minutes ago. Is she alright? What kind of problem?"

"The chewing the throat out of a victim, leaving the bloody carcass in a parking garage kind." Hayley quickly resumed her walk. "Ford is fine. Right now she's ripping a beat cop a new one on the top level of the parking garage across from your bar where the attack took place. We managed to get the body the vamp left, and she's being tracked down now."

Sanders looked offscreen thoughtfully silently before emitting a slow groan and shook his head. "Please don't tell me _he's_ tracking her. I thought he was suppose to remain on the plane."

Hayley began to shake her phone.

"What? Say again? You're breaking up!"

#

Frankie fell rather than sat down into her couch in the living room of her spacious townhouse. She rested there without moving for a solid minute before slowly reaching down to undo her ankle holster. She walked into her bedroom and slid her pistol underneath one of her pillows and slid out of her shoes, jacket, and her clothes.

A minute later, dressed in shorts and a tank top, Frankie strolled out of her bedroom into the kitchen where she pulled a bottle of water from her refrigerator, noting that the message light on her house phone resting on the counter was lit. She sighed and twisted the top off of the bottle before picking up the receiver and dialing a number. Seconds later, she was speaking with the nighttime desk sergeant at her department.

"Unis are doing a three-block check in that area right now," Sergeant Anna Issacs said over the phone. Frankie could tell the older woman was tired. "So far they haven't found anything out of the ordinary except for the blood splatter that you pointed out."

Frankie did not like how the investigation into mysterious disappearance of the male victim was turning out. It bugged her even more that she was powerless to do anything about it. "Who's running point?"

"Corporal Detmer. He's a good guy, Frankie. He'll find something."

Frankie started to say something but decided against it. "Thanks, Anna. Please don't tell the captain that you took a call from me, okay?"

"I'm on my personal cell eating a donut and smoking a cigarette out back. I can talk to whomever I damned well please." Isaacs paused for a few seconds. "See you in a few weeks, girl."

Frankie ended the call and placed the receiver in the stand before pressing the PLAY button. When a woman began speaking from the recording, she rolled her eyes.

"Franchesca, it's your mother. I hope you didn't forget that tomorrow is your niece's big dinner to celebrate her admission to Stanford. Caitlyn and Alan decided to have it at their restaurant since a bunch of Scarlett's friends are coming."

Frankie groaned and walked out into her living room. She lowered herself onto the plush carpet as the recording continued. "It's not everyday that your only niece graduates as valedictorian and is accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. I hope you will be there. At least for your sister. And Scarlett."

The recording ended, and Frankie slid her water bottle on the coffee table and reached for her cell phone. Scrolling down her contact list, she found the number she was looking for and pressed DIAL and speakerphone. She laid the phone in front of her and began stretching her right arm.

"It's about time you called," a woman answered. "When Mom told me you didn't want any visitors at the hospital, I wanted to come up there and shoot you myself."

"Ha ha ha." Frankie pulled her right arm across her chest. "Someone forgot that I took her pistol and locked it up in my safe because she thought her husband was cheating on her with his new hostess."

"Such a cliché. Hostess pining for the owner. Glad you talked me out of it." Caitlyn Ford-Killian chuckled lightly through the phone's speaker. "How are you?"

"Well, I'm on thirty days' suspension from the force, and I got dressed down tonight by a beat cop who had more fun reminding me and telling the world that fact than doing his job." Frankie released her arm. "But other than that, I'm fine."

"Suspended? Is this for the Pruitt case? I tried to pull you off that case for months." An exasperated sigh expelled from the phone. Frankie grinned in spite of herself.

"Seriously. Are you okay?"

Frankie rose to her feet. "I'm fine. I … I came across a weird incident after having drinks with Alex Sanders. Got me a little rattled. But what is this mess about a dinner tomorrow? I thought we were just doing a small party for Letty."

"All her doing. A lot of her friends are either going out of state or starting jobs or being bums for all I know. This will be one of their last times together before graduation." A pause. "And she deserves to have her family there. _All_ of her family."

Frankie winced. "Fine, fine. Just do me a favor. Keep this thing about my suspension between us, okay? I'm not ready for an in depth convo with Mom just yet."

"As long as your niece's present tomorrow isn't something that comes in a spray, something that does not need to be holstered, and something that does not need to be worn under clothing."

Frankie's tone took on a mock hurtful direction. "Awwww. That means no perfume, no IPhone, and no Victoria's Secret?" She shook her head. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

#

Frankie turned fitfully in her sleep. The frightful image of the woman at the parking garage dancing in her head caused her to sit up in her bed after less than two hours.

Her eyes slowly took him the interior of her spacious bedroom. The television resting on her dresser drawer displaying an infomercial hours after she fell asleep watching the late night news. The newspaper she had on the bed now resting on the floor. Her bedroom door.

Her bedroom door, the only other door just as secure as her apartment entrance. Always locked before she turn in for the night … now slightly ajar.

With her hand grasping her pistol she had hidden earlier, Frankie eased out of her bed and cautiously approached her door. She noted the only light illuminating the hallway besides her room was coming from the corner lamp inside her office across from her, a converted spare bedroom. The door was cracked enough for a sliver of light to shine through.

Another door she constantly closes and locks.

She stepped out into the hallway, her weapon aimed at the door until she approached. With the muzzle of her pistol, she eased the door open.

A powerful hand slammed around her wrist, pulling her completely into the room and off of her feet. She struggled in the grip for a second before looking into the face of her attacker and her eyes widened in surprise.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?!"

The woman from the parking garage snarled at her. She viciously slapped the pistol from Frankie's grasp with her right hand. As the weapon went flying, her left hand grabbed Frankie by the throat, picking up from the floor until her bare feet brushed against the rug.

The intruder held Frankie in the air with little effort, her gray lips matching the irises of her eyes.

"You interrupted a good meal I was having at the parking garage," she said, running her free hand down the side of Frankie's body. "I'm famished."

Frankie punched the woman square in her nose. The blow only caused her to laugh as she slammed Frankie on top of the wooden desk. "I am going to enjoy draining you dry," she whispered, her lips brushing lightly against Frankie's ear as she squeezed Frankie's throat.

The doors leading to a small balcony smashed open, spraying both women with glass. Frankie's attacker growled as she threw her to the side like a discarded article of clothing. Her head impacted heavily against the wall, causing stars to cloud her already hazy vision from lack of oxygen. She slid to a bodily heap onto the floor.

As darkness slowly claimed her, she dimly saw her attacker being attacked herself by a tall, handsome man. He was dressed in a dark shirt and jeans underneath a sports jacket.

The blows he took from the woman were lightning quick, but not as fast as his response. A forearm block was instantaneously followed by a punch to her sternum, driving the woman through the remaining pieces of the balcony doors.

Frankie caught a glimpse of the man's face as he spared her a glance on the floor. She would have drew back in fear if it was not for the fact that unconsciousness finally claimed her.

His face had the same ghostly appearance as her female assailant.

#

"Frankie? Frankie, wake up."

Frankie slowly began to regain her senses, blinking rapidly until her eyes finally focused. She tried to sit up but a sharp pain in her right shoulder nearly made her cry out in pain.

A familiar feminine voice called out from beside her. "She's awake."

Frankie turned her head and realized she was laying on her couch in her living room, and Hayley Simms was sitting beside her. "Hayley? What are you doing here?"

Another feminine voice responded from the kitchen. "She was looking after you until I got here." Alexandra Sanders stepped into view with three glasses containing an amber colored liquid. "I told her to make you as comfortable as possible."

Hayley helped Frankie slowly sit up on the couch. Once she was settled, Hayley reached for two of the glasses. "I wanted to find you some aspirin but Alex thought bourbon would be the better medicine," she said as she held out the glass.

Frankie took it and swallowed a sip, savoring the alcohol. She looked over at Sanders who had settled into a rocking chair by the fireplace. "Okay, ladies. You two are here in my apartment after I was attacked. Which means that one of you were tracking the woman who I saw attack a man tonight in the parking garage downtown."

Sanders nodded. "Hayley was. Actually, one of our associates. She was backing him up. We had no idea she would follow you back to your place."

"We had a solid visual on her about ninety minutes ago." Hayley rose and walked over to a bookcase with her glass where she admired several plaques and trophies on display. "Then … we lost her. Our guy had to circle around several times until he was able to pick it back up. By then, that bitch had snuck up in here."

Frankie took a large gulp of her drink. "And that's another thing. _Who_ in the hell is she? _What_ is she? She said she wanted to drain me dry. Is she on some type of new drug on the streets that I'm not aware of? And the guy who stopped her from killing me. He looked like he was on the same crap! His face, his skin, _his eyes …_ he looked like some sort of ghost!"

Hayley started to respond but looked over at Sanders who sighed and looked down at her glass. Frankie caught the look and leaned forward, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and back. "You two are hiding something. And you know how I know?"

She stood walked over to Hayley. "Because neither one of you bitches have taken a sip of your bourbon, and for you two _not_ to be drinking, I _know_ something's up," she said glaring down at Hayley's hand.

Hayley looked down at her glass as if she just remembered it was in her hand. "Damn," she whispered, giving Frankie a sheepish smile before she took a sip.

Sanders merely looked up at Frankie as she slowly rocked in the chair, her glass still in her hand. Finally she rose to her feet and downed the bourbon in one swallow. "You're up for a ride?"

Frankie glanced at Hayley who returned an uncertain look. "A ride? Where?"

Sanders set the glass on the coffee table. "I said I would much rather _not_ tell you what I have going on than lie to you. Now I find myself in a position to either show you what's going on, or give you a pointless but masterfully woven piece of fabrication that you would see right through anyway because of the detective inside of you. It's not worth your life."

She reached for Frankie's glass and downed the remainder of its contents. "So get dressed. It's time you saw our little operation."

#


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Where's your Mameluke*?"

Sanders looked over at Frankie where she stood admiring plaques and trophies displayed on the shelf. "That is the one piece of my Marine Corps uniform I do not let out of the house. Well, at least my dad doesn't let out of _his_ house. It's over his fireplace in North Carolina."

Frankie nodded and started to make her way to one of the couches, but an uniquely shaped container caught her eye. It sat centered on a shelf, noticeably away from the other items. She stared at it for several seconds.

"Uh, Alex? Is this an urn?"

Sanders walked up to stand beside her. "Yep."

Frankie slowly reached for an object tied around the top of the container with some twine. "This is a grenade pin."

Sanders held out a glass half-filled with bourbon to her. "Yep."

The double doors opened and Hayley walked in, followed by a long-haired brunette wearing jeans and a dark shirt underneath a leather jacket. "Franchesca Ford, meet Harper Ryan. She's an investigative reporter and researcher."

"I know Harper Ryan." Frankie walked over to shake her hand. "You broke that story into gang related gun trafficking about a year ago. That information broke maybe half a dozen cases at the L.A.P.D. wide open."

"I only try to do my part for the better good." Harper smiled up at Frankie briefly before making her way over to the bar situated in the corner by Sanders' desk. "It's a part of my life that I miss sometimes."

Frankie finally sat down on one of the couches. "What have you been up to? Last I heard, you quit _LA Story_ and went to the competition. _BuzzWire,_ I believe."

Instead of responding, Harper looked over her shoulder at Sanders who had sat down across from Frankie. "You didn't tell her?"

Sanders shook her head. "I figured I'd wait on permission. This time."

Harper chuckled. "Like that ever stopped you before."

Frankie looked from Harper to Sanders in confusion. "What are you two talking about?"

Sanders sighed and leaned forward. "Frankie, what I'm about to discuss with you cannot go any further than this room. I want you to keep an open mind about everything. You have a right to your opinion, but everything mentioned is fact corroborated by physical evidence. And like I said, I'm not going to lie to you. Okay?"

Frankie saw the seriousness in Sanders' countenance. "Okay, Alex. Just tell me what's going on."

Sanders nodded once and braced herself.

"You were attacked by a vampire."

Frankie did not respond at first. She continued to look at Sanders who remained expressionless. Frankie looked to the side at Hayley who had sat down beside her. Hayley's wide-eye expression was a stark contrast to Ryan's. The researcher smiled at the revelation.

Frankie shook her head and rose to her feet. "I think you all are on some drug that I never heard of that has caused you to lose all sense of reality, so I'm going to take an Uber home and get some sleep. It was nice to meet you, Harper, but I am outta here."

Frankie stepped past Hayley and was halfway to the doors when Sanders yelled out behind her, "Frankie, stop! _Please!"_

The plea in Alex's tone brought Frankie to a halt. She slowly turned around and saw Sanders was on her feet. She started to say something but the words caught in her throat.

Frankie almost laughed. "If you think I'm going to stand here and let you spin this line of bullshit on me, you are sadly mistaken, Alexandra." She shook her head. "What happened to not lying to me?"

"I'm not, Frankie. I swear to you." Sanders gestured for her to sit back down. "I swear on our friendship, which is one of the few things that mean as much to me as my life, my family, everything I built here. I swear on all of those things that I am telling you the truth."

Frankie stared hard at her friend for several seconds before glancing behind her at Harper Ryan, who gave a confirming nod. "There are more than four hundred vampires living in L.A. alone. This city has probably the second or third highest vampire contingent in the country. Definitely one of the highest count in the world. Alex, Hayley and I, we … know several of them."

Frankie looked from Harper to Hayley to Alexandra and back again. She slowly sat back down on the couch.

"The woman, or whatever she is. _She's_ a vampire?"

Hayley nodded. "Her name is Simone Carlyle. She's approximately 120 years of age. Hailing originally from New York. We've been getting a slew of them lately from there."

"Great." Frankie slapped her legs and rose. "I want to question her."

Hayley shook her head. "Ummm, no. That's … not possible."

"Why not? Hayley, she killed a civilian. She needs to be brought in." Frankie looked down at Sanders. "Alex, you know I'm right."

"Calm down, Frankie. Of course you're right." Sanders pulled her friend back down to the couch. "It's … just not possible right now."

Frankie glanced at Hayley and and then Harper. The researcher shrugged. "I just got here so I have no idea what's going on but I have to admit that they are not their usual forthcoming selves."

She stared hard at Hayley who emitted an exasperated sigh. "Okay, fine! You win!"

She turned to face Frankie. "The reason you can't question her is because … we don't have her."

Frankie's eyes spread open wide as half-dollar coins. She sat back in the couch in disbelief.

"You mean to tell me that there's a crazy, homicidal woman running loose in the city," she said softly. "Oh, who just so happens to be a vampire."

Sanders smiled. "We're on the lookout for her, Frankie," she soothed. "Things were slapped together in a hurry and I only had Hayley and another person to use. This guy is … sort of … new."

"But he did save your life," said Hayley.

Sanders rose to her feet. "Let's head downstairs. Frankie can get a chance to see our operations, hopefully get some of questions answered, and meet her savior to either thank him or kill him."

Harper grinned as she drained her glass and set about to pour herself another.

"I have a feeling it will be the latter. I think I'll stay here so I don't have to witness that murder."

#

Samantha Cannon pumped her fist in the air in triumph as she pointed to the expansive flat screen against the far wall. "I told you these noobs couldn't touch me! Haha, forty-two kills with a thirty-one troop killstreak! Broke my foot in their ass!"

From above her in a room upstairs, a male voice responded down to her. "You have quite the grasp of your generation's street slang, Samantha."

Samantha set the controller to her gaming system on the couch beside her and yelled over her shoulder. "Oh, c'mon. You know you like it. I mean, we're practically the same age."

"You know damn well we're not, just like you know you don't have to yell."

Sam pulled her blonde hair through the loop of her trucker hat and stretched her arms several times. "Do you need help? I have to come down there anyway," the masculine voice stated.

"Nope. I got this."

Sam reached for the near edge of her wheelchair with her right hand. Making sure it was as close to the couch as she could get it, she stretched until the far side of the seat was in her grasp. She then pulled her body over until she was upright in the chair. She adjusted her legs before rolling herself to her computer station situated in a corner of the spacious living room. Laptops, monitors, tablets and cellphones were spread out all across the desk surface.

She had just started typing on a laptop when one of her desktop monitors signaled for attention. She looked at the image for several seconds before yelling over her shoulder. "Alex and Hayley are here and they brought company! Stay upstairs!"

Samantha looked her desk over to make sure there was no confidential material laying around. Nodding in satisfaction, she spun her wheelchair around just as the front door opened.

"Alex! Hayley! What brings you out to suburbia this late at night?"

Sanders waited until Hayley and Frankie stepped inside before shutting the door. "I wanted to show my friend here our operation," she said. "Franchesca Ford, meet Samantha Cannon, my computer guru."

Frankie walked over with an outstretched hand. Samantha gave Sanders a quizzical look as she slowly took it. "Uh, how much did the boss lady tell you?"

Frankie took a seat beside Samantha. "Oh, we stopped at the part where we were talking about vampires."

"Really?" Samantha continued to look over at Sanders who had moved over to a mini bar in the corner of the living room. "How much did she drink tonight?"

"Shut up." Sanders picked up a bottle of water and opened it. "Is he here?"

Instead of answering, Samantha leaned forward slightly in her chair. "It's okay to come downstairs," she said. Though she spoke with a soft tone, it was clear that she was not speaking to anyone in the immediate vicinity. "Boss lady has someone for you to meet."

Frankie heard footsteps above her for several seconds before someone began descending the stairs close by the front door. She raised one eyebrow as the new arrival stepped into view.

He had the appearance of a young adult, eighteen or nineteen-years-old. Pale complexion, no facial hair. Tall. He had to be close to six feet, but boasted an athletically toned frame underneath the simple black t-shirt and blue jeans he wore. A "high and tight" fade hairstyle with a smirk completed the ensemble.

Frankie turned to Sanders. "What's the smirk about? He's young enough to date Scarlett."

" _Ohhhh_ no he's not. That kind of stuff is frowned upon." She walked up to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Franchesca Ford, this is Callen Decker. Cal to his friends. Cal, you already met Frankie from earlier tonight."

When Cal began to speak, his voice had the maturity of a man wise beyond his youthful appearance. "I had hoped you weren't seriously injured when I left you, Miss Ford," he said. "Hayley insisted I take off after the vampire."

Hayley crossed her arms and glared at Callen. "Narc."

"I'm okay, Callen. Thanks for the save." Frankie rose from her seat. "Although I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you let my attacker escape."

She looked behind her at Samantha. "I guess you're a vampire, too?"

Samantha grinned. "Hell no. But he is."

She pointed behind Frankie. Frankie glanced over shoulder and nearly screamed when she found that Callen was standing directly behind her. She stumbled backwards, tripping over her feet in confusion. She began to fall.

Her descent was halted when Callen somehow stepped around and caught her before she hit the floor. He set her back upright on her feet, his face full of concern.

"Miss Ford, are you alright?"

Still standing by the staircase, Sanders gave a nonchalant wave of her hand. "She's fine. I think she's finally figuring out that vampirism is sort of real."

Frankie stared hard at Callen. "You can't be a vampire. You look … eighteen."

"Well, I was eighteen when I was turned." Callen got a confirming nod from Sanders before continuing. "In 1967."

"1967?" Frankie's eyes widened. "That would put you at … sixty-nine?"

Callen nodded as Sanders finally joined everyone in the living room. "Callen was bitten by an unknown vampire while he and his family vacationed in Italy. He was declared dead during the transitioning phase and buried just outside of Rome."

Sanders nodded at Callen. "When he came to, he began terrorizing Vatican City to the point where a special team of hunters covertly ordered by Pope Paul VI captured him in '68 and held him for almost a decade."

Frankie was clearly fascinated by the story, even though doubts still lingered. "Wait. You mean to tell me the Catholic Church is aware that there are vampires?"

All eyes turned to Callen who shrugged. "Hard to say now. I managed to break free in 1978 before the papal reign of John Paul II. A lot of confusion back then. His predecessor was pope for barely a month before he died. I escaped during the electoral process."

"The rest of the story is neither here nor there, but he eventually managed to make his way back to America." Sanders gave Callen a sad smile. "Upon his arrival, he was captured once again. This time by a vampire."

"Really? Who?"

Sam spoke from beside Frankie. "Magnus McClane. 'The Archivist,' as he is known to all the vampires throughout the world. He's like the official historian. He intercepted Callen and brought him back to Detroit before he tried to reunite with his family."

Frankie looked up at Callen and noted the sad expression on his face. "So I guess immortality is one of your gifts. Speed is another. What else?"

Sanders smiled. "Oh, so now you believe me?"

"I want to get as much information about vampires as I can get, I admit that much." Frankie smiled up at Callen who returned it.

"Then afterwards, I want to find out how he let that little vampire slip through his fingers."

Callen's face fell.

#

As she led Alex down the hall to her apartment, Frankie had an awful thought. "Oh damn. I have to contact the landlord about the balcony door in the morning," she said.

Sanders waited until Frankie unlocked her door and pushed it open. "I had Niles come over while you were knocked out and fix them. Won't even put a ding in your deposit."

Frankie gave her friend a puzzled look as she went down the hall to her office and peered inside. The doors had indeed either been fixed with a craftsman's expertise, or completely replaced. There was no evidence whatsoever of a battle between immortals that had taken place hours before.

"Niles does it again," she whispered to herself before turning the lamp off and closing the door.

Sanders was standing by the opened door when she walked back into the living room. "That man. Loves his créme brûlée. Loves his Lowe's power tools. He was too happy to help. By the way, I made a call to some … friends of mine. They're watching your place right now so you shouldn't have any more visitors."

Frankie nodded and walked over to the kitchen island to drop off her purse and cell phone. She fiddled with the items for several seconds as she searched for the right words.

"You shared a lot with me tonight, Alex. But there's something I need to know." She turned around to face Sanders. "Why are _you_ doing this?"

Alex exhaled and nervously played with a ring on her right middle finger. "You remember Ben Talbot?"

A wave of sadness washed over Frankie. She took a step forward. "Alex, was he -"

"A vampire? God, no!" She chuckled. "Though in all of his somewhat scrupulous and underhanded dealings prior to us hooking up, he might as well been."

She sighed and crossed her arms. "Ben was killed by a vampire. The same vampire who had put me in the hospital months ago. I paid him back by killing him in front of a vampire conclave. They … didn't take too kindly to that. I myself found it extremely satisfying."

Alex took a step further into the apartment. "In exchange for not killing me, I help the vampires hunt down the worst of their kind. Well, Hayley does. She volunteered to take my place so I'm free to run SanSec and helped Magnus McClane put together a new team dedicated to his mandate. Samantha is my first recruit."

Frankie expelled a breath she did not know she was holding. "What do you get out of this?"

"Well, I get to keep my head firmly attached to my shoulders, for one." Alex smiled. "I have an extremely wealthy investor who is helping me expand my business to other countries besides Japan."

Frankie snorted. "Like Transylvania?"

Sanders ignored the snide question. "And I have a nice little urn with that vampire's ashes as a keepsake in my office."

The women stared across the room at each other for a handful of heartbeats before Sanders spoke. "Well, I'm heading home. If you're not freaked out or anything by what I showed you when you wake up, shoot me a text."

Frankie smiled. "Hey, are you busy tomorrow night? Or actually, later on tonight? I mean, it's nearly zero four hundred.*"

Sanders shrugged. "I try to keep my hell raising down to three nights a week. The cigar bar was my third night."

"Damn, Alex. It's only Wednesday." Frankie laughed. "I have to go to Scarlett's pre-graduation party at Cat and Derek's restaurant and I might need backup."

Alex yawned and closed her eyes as she stepped back and leaned against the doorframe. "4 AM? It's slightly past my bedtime. Why do you want me to hold your hand at your only niece's party? You two having problems?"

"Letty and I are fine. More than fine." Frankie sat down on the couch and stretched out her frame. "It's my mother I'm having problems with."

Alex sighed and rubbed her forehead for a second. "Oh." She pushed herself off of the frame and grasped the knob to pull the door shut behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder at her friend. "Pick you up at six."

#

 _* The "Mameluke" is the official sword carried by Marine Corps commissioned officers today. It was adopted for wear by Commandant Archibald Henderson in 1825._

** " _Zero four hundred" (0400) is military standard for 4:00 AM._


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The corner of Rachel Alston's mouth turned upwards as she smirked. Her two cards rested face down before her on the red velvet table. She had not touched them other than to slide them close to her.

Across the table, a handsome man with a neatly trimmed goatee peered at his cards, his eyes darting between his hand and Rachel's. "Are you ever going to pick your cards up?"

Rachel gave him a smile. "Where's the fun in that?"

The man smiled back. "I like where your head is at, Alston."

A scantily clad woman positioned as the dealer slid out the fifth and final card, the two of diamonds. The man eyed his cards and tossed in a stack of money before glancing up at Rachel. "I believe the bet's to you."

"Really? Let's see." Rachel made an over exaggerated show of looking at the cards displayed before pushing her considerable pile of money to the center. "All in, Julian."

Julian raised one eyebrow at the proclamation. He eyed his cards for several seconds before sighing. "I know I'm going to stab myself in the chest for this," he growled, pushing the rest of his winnings in.

The dealer gestured to Julian. "Show your cards."

Julian tossed his cards to the center face up. "Three queens," the dealer announced, taking the cards and placing them on the table beside the five displayed cards.

Julian leaned back in his chair and sipped from a glass of blood as he eyed Rachel across from him. "I showed you mine. You show me yours."

Rachel pulled her cards close and scooped the corners up enough to see what she possessed. She sighed and slid them forward still facing down. "I wish I had looked at them sooner," she said as her forefinger tapped the cards.

A triumphant Julian set his glass down on the table with a flourish. "Don't feel bad, Rach," he said as he began to pull the pot forward to him. "I pulled that trick once and it didn't work well for me either."

"What makes you think it didn't work?" Rachel passed the cards over to the dealer who turned them over one by one and placed them on the table.

Julian's eyes widened as he saw what she held. "A pair of twos," he breathed.

"A pair of twos." Rachel crossed her arms. "With the pair of twos on the table, I think that's … four of a kind? That does beat your three queens?"

"Four of a kind." Julian fell back in his chair and silently applauded. "Well played."

Rachel pulled several bills off the pot and handed them to the dealer. "Jasmine, secure my winnings. I'll walk Julian out."

Julian stepped out into the hall and to the front of the club with Rachel on his arm. "You know, you really impress me, Rachel. I honestly didn't think that a human who started here as a freshie and a companion for our pleasure would work her way up to buying this place, and not only that but keep it as a legitimate establishment. I had my doubts in the beginning, but the members here and I are very pleased."

Rachel looked up at Julian as they stopped in the reception area. " _You_ had doubts? My biggest cheerleader?" She pulled him close and gave him a sly smile as she whispered, "Or was it because you had a death pool going against me and that all the dates chosen had passed for me to be killed if I made a mistake?"

If a vampire could even possibly turn a shade paler, Julian pulled a close imitation. Rachel laughed as she patted his arm. "It's fine, Julian! If anyone who ever enjoyed the pleasure of my company one knows anything about me, they know that I enjoy a challenge."

She reached up and kissed him on the cheek before holding one of the double oak doors open. Julian smiled and stepped outside, careful to shade his eyes from the midday sun. Rachel waved before letting the door close behind her as she moved over to the reception desk. "What are we looking at, Jackie?"

The concierge rose and passed over a leather-bound ledger. "Good news and bad news, Rachel."

"You know I like my dinner, Jackie. Give it to me."

"The Warrens canceled again."

Rachel expelled a frustrated sigh. "Ava and Lauren are not going to like that. What's the good news?"

"I was able to set the girls up with a walk-in. Verified with the McClane office in Detroit."

Rachel opened the ledger and ran a manicured finger down the bookmarked page. "Write a note to remind me that the Warrens' dues will include a ten percent bonus next month. That's the third time in two weeks." She closed the ledger and emitted a frustrated sigh before passing it back to Jackie.

"Which room did you put them in?"

Jackie looked down on her pad. "Ava and Lauren were already set up in the Warrens' usual private suite, so I escorted him there. Is that okay?"

"Okay?" Rachel slapped the top of the reception desk with the palm of her hand as she walked away. "Instead of a ten percent addition, maybe the Warrens just lost their private room."

A minute later, she came up the door to the private room Jackie had assigned. She turned to the mirror on the opposite wall to check her appearance. She gave herself a nod of approval before knocking.

A blonde dressed in a plunging black corset and panties with black stockings opened the door. She smiled as she gave Rachel a kiss in the cheek and stepped to the side. "It seems we have a very special guest joining us," she announced.

A brunette wearing a pink silk robe with six-inch stilettos and her guest slowly turned around from their stools at the bar, allowing Rachel her first view of the visitor. He was strikingly handsome in a dark blue blazer and slacks with matching shirt underneath. His hair was perfectly parted and cropped close along the sides. A glass of a dark red liquid rested in his hand.

He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and held it for several seconds. "The fragrance is simply ... intoxicating," he finally said. "I'm finding it hard to keep my hands to myself."

Rachel laughed. "Then something isn't right because that's not suppose to happen," she said. "Ava and Lauren are two of the club's most exclusive and renowned companions. Most of our clientelé usually have their hands on them by now."

"I'm sorry. I misspoke." The vampire set his glass down on the bar and rose from his seat. "I was talking about _you._ Your scent hit me seconds before you opened the door and walked in. Simply … breathtaking."

Rachel blushed at the compliment. "I'm flattered. _Very_ flattered. The thing is, however, is that I've taken a more business like role within the club nowadays as its owner."

The vampire smiled. "Perfect. Because that's why I'm here."

He turned back to the women and took each by the hand. "I apologize, ladies," he said as he guided them to the door. "Your time would be wasted on me right now. If you would excuse us, please."

The women gave Rachel a confused look. She disguised her equally confused countenance with a small nod. "Ladies, why don't you get dressed and go talk to Jackie. Tell her to set you up with a spa appointment at the Warrens' hotel. Their treat."

Rachel's eyes never left her guest as the women departed, closing the door behind them. "Ava and Lauren might start developing a complex. They are two of my brightest and most sought after companions and yet no one wants to spend time with them today."

The vampire flashed her a pearly white smile. Rachel could just make out his fangs slightly protruding. "I'm sorry. I really did enjoy their company. The night indeed had possibilities. The blonde. Lauren, I believe? She was built for that robe."

He slowly circled Rachel where she stood, admiring her shapely form in her long sleeve black mini dress and calf high boots. "And then I caught a whiff of your scent. A very rare scent. One only three percent of the world's population possesses."

The vampire stopped behind Rachel and reached for the zipper of her dress. Instead of resisting, she looked over her shoulder at him, narrowing her eyes as she gave him a seductive smile.

He returned the smile as he pulled the zipper down with ease, stopping at the small of her back. With both of his hands he slid the dress away from her shoulders and down her arms and front of her body to where it hung from her wrists while exposing her black lace bra underneath.

When the vampire circled back around, she looked up at him and smiled as she held a wrist up close to his face. "AB negative. A very rare blood type. A delicacy for vampires."

She slowly waved her wrist in front of the vampire, who reacted to the motion with a low growl as his nose followed. She smiled and took a step closer, tantalizing him more. "It's a flavor that makes me desirable," she whispered into his ear. "Alluring. Irresistible."

Before he could respond, Rachel patted his chest and abruptly stepped back, sliding her dress back on. "But since I took the club over, I pretty much don't undress for anyone anymore. Though it has been a while since a vampire did it. That part I did appreciate. It lets me know that I can still make heads turn around here. Oh, do you mind?"

She turned to offer the zipper to her dress. The vampire hesitated at first but then slowly reached down and pulled the zipper back up to its original position.

Rachel smoothed her dress out as she faced him again. "Thank you. Is there something else I can help you with?"

The vampire blinked in surprise at the question. He stared hard at Rachel who returned the look unbashfully. Finally he laughed and took a generous step back.

"It seems that I was a bit overzealous in my needs," he said, stretching out with his hand. "Let's start over. Allow me to introduce myself, if that's okay. Wyatt Sanford."

Rachel took his hand. "Pleasure to meet you. Rachel Alston." She released it and turned to walk over behind the bar.

"Now that we got all that out of the way, why don't I fix you a fresh drink, and you can tell me the real reason why you're here."

#

"Scarlett is still deciding on what she wants to major in at Stanford, but I assure you that she is not following her grandfather and aunt in the Marine Corps." Catherine Ford gave a short laugh before taking a sip of her tea. "And she hates cooking so no worries of joining the family business here."

One of the three women gathered at the bar with Catherine set her martini glass down. "And how is Franchesca, by the way? Is she going to make an appearance tonight?"

"I left her a message last night saying Scarlett wanted to have a dinner party here, so I imagine she should stop by." Suddenly Catherine wanted something stronger than the tea she had brewed in the kitchen earlier. "We … really haven't talked in quite a while."

Before Catherine could broker a change in subject, she noticed a familiar woman further down at the other end of the bar awaiting a drink order while browsing her phone. "If you ladies would excuse me for a minute. There's someone I need to speak with real quick."

She stepped around the women and walked down to the other end of the bar, stopping a seat away from the woman. "Well, if you're here tonight, it's either because of the cheesecake or you're here with my daughter. How are you, Alexandra?"

Alex looked up from her phone and smiled. "Catherine! It's so good to see you!" She reached over to give the older woman a kiss on the cheek. "How are you doing?"

"I'm as well as can be expected." Catherine gave Alex a hard look. "I'd be even better if you can tell me where my daughter is."

A bartender slid two glasses of wine in front of Alex. "Frankie went to find Caitlyn and Derek to ask if a present I have for Scarlett would be okay," she said, reaching for one. "I didn't want to even put it out there until I got permission from her parents."

"Oh? What did you get her? Nothing expensive, I hope."

Alex shook her head. "Nope. I'm going to fly her and her best friends out to Hawaii for a week."

The look on Catherine's face along with the silence that followed was all the sign Alexandra needed to inform her that she did not approve of her gift. She turned to her wine and took a generous sip, silently hoping that Frankie would return from the kitchen soon.

Her prayers were quickly answered as Frankie exited the kitchen followed by her sister. With her dark hair pulled into a long ponytail, Caitlyn stood slightly shorter than her younger sister who moved to the opposite side of Alexandra and reached for her wine glass.

Caitlyn started to say something but noticed the look on her mother's face. "Uh, Mom? What's that look about? Did you take a bite of some bad cheesecake?"

Catherine sighed and looked past her at her youngest daughter who fixated on a bottle of bourbon sitting on a shelf behind the bar. "Franchesca. I'm happy you could make it."

Frankie took a deep breath and a sip of her wine before turning to face her mother. "Of course I'd be here, Mom," she said, forcing a smile. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Catherine pursed her lips and shook her head. She began to turn away to return to her friends but looked back at Frankie. "I hope that you will make some time for me later so that we can talk. I'm very interested in knowing what you've been up to the past couple of days."

Frankie's eyes bulged wide as her mother made her way to the other end of the bar. She turned to Alex who gave her an equally confused look.

Caitlyn whistled softly and walked behind the bar. "Something tells me she knows something you didn't want her to know, Frankie," she said as she uncorked a bottle of wine.

Frankie pointed an accusing finger at her. "Probably because someone couldn't keep her damned mouth shut, _Caitlyn._ You told her I was suspended, didn't you?"

"Please. The last thing I want to do is get in the middle of your little war." Caitlyn poured some white wine into Alex's nearly empty glass. "Her ear is so close to the ground in this city, I'd be surprised if she _doesn't_ know."

Sanders nodded. "Remember when someone gave the restaurant a bad Yelp review, and she found out who he was, had him tailed and found out he was a shyster who goes around to different spots and complains for possible freebies?"

Frankie snapped her fingers. "You mean the guy who was also double-dipping on his disability checks?"

Caitlyn pulled her sister's glass close to her and poured the remainder of the wine from the bottle. "I remember. She had five of Dad's old buddies corner his ass and said she would have him busted if he didn't change the review. That sucker was changed within an hour."

Alex smiled. "Gangsta."

Frankie frowned as she eyed Caitlyn slowly slide her glass back to her. The glass was nearly filled to the brim sloshing small droplets on the bar. "Seriously, are you trying to get me drunk?"

Instead of answering, Caitlyn looked over at Alex. "Frankie told me and Derek about the Hawaii trip you have for Scarlett. We both absolutely love it, but I'd feel much better if one of us flies with her. I've seen too many episodes of "SVU" and that first "Taken" movie."

Sanders laughed. "Caitlyn, relax! I have three beach houses there as part of a package I secured when I opened up my Oahu office a few years ago. Several of my employees room together in two of the houses, leaving the third for when I come into town. They're in a gated community with a private beach, park, grocery store, and my guys can drive them wherever outside the community, watch them, et cetera. They'll be perfectly safe, trust me. I would never let anything happen to your daughter."

The worry slowly faded from Caitlyn's face and she smiled. "Well, that certainly is a relief. I was about to have Uncle Walt run the restaurant for a week while we all flew out."

Frankie gave up on trying to pick the full glass of wine up and reached for a straw. "Now I know you're crazy. Putting our uncle in charge? You really must want to lose your health code rating."

#

"Words cannot describe how extremely proud Derek and I are of our Scarlett." Caitlyn smiled from the podium down at her daughter sitting between her and her grandmother. "I can't believe that this young lady, the proof that we once had a life outside of this restaurant, our daughter will be taking a step closer to her dreams at one of the most prestigious and acclaimed universities in the country."

The fifty guests seated at tables throughout the restaurant's banquet room applauded as Caitlyn placed a hand on Scarlett's shoulder. Sporting a rounded blonde bob with lavender highlights, Scarlett beamed down the table at her father and grandmother before turning a gaze up at her mother.

Frankie looked at her watch and bit back a curse. She took a sip of water from her table closest to the dais, noting that her family began to rise from their seats at the head table, signifying the end of the ceremonies. She looked through an arched entryway at the bar and saw Alexandra standing at the bar on her cell phone. She had taken the call before Caitlyn began speaking, a full five minutes.

She rose from her chair and turned for the bar but a hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to her niece who stood holding an envelope and small box. "Aunt Frankie, I just wanted to thank you and Alex for my presents. I can't wait until after graduation to go to Hawaii with Lisa and Vicki!"

Frankie laughed. "Already have your crew picked out, huh?"

"Please." Scarlett gave her a mischievous grin. "It's guaranteed fun if all three of us are together."

"Well, I'm glad that part of your present is gonna work out." Frankie glanced up at the head table and saw her mother was still there talking with Scarlett's parents. She guided her niece from the table over to the entryway separating the banquet room from the bar area. Alex noticed the women while still talking on her phone and gave Frankie a curious look. Frankie made a circling motion with her finger, gesturing for Alex to return her attention to the bar.

When she felt they were out of their family's line of sight, Frankie leaned in close. "And what about _my_ present?"

Scarlett risked a glance over her shoulder. "I have an appointment the day after tomorrow. Three o'clock. We're pretty much on our own program in the afternoon from now until graduation."

"Okay." Frankie grasped her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "You need me to go with you?"

Scarlett sighed and looked down at their intertwined fingers. "No. I'll be fine."

"Of course you will be. You're a Ford." Frankie smiled and touched her forehead with her niece's before disengaging. She gestured with her chin in the direction of the family. "Get going. I have to see why Alex has been on the phone all this time."

The women separated, Frankie heading to a seat beside Alex just as she disconnected her call. She placed her phone on the bar and turned to her friend. "How long was the speech?"

Frankie clenched her teeth. "Five minutes and five seconds."

Sanders pumped her right fist in triumph. "Yes! I win again which means …"

"You called five minutes. With your thirty second window … I owe you dinner." Frankie shook her head. "How … how do you do that? How do you always know how long a speech is going to be?"

"It's a gift." Alex signaled the bartender. "How about a shot of Patrón and then get out of here? I have to make a stop."

"Where?"

Alex stared hard at Frankie. "It's better if I didn't tell you right now. Just think about our convo last night. The subject matter."

Two shot glasses of top shelf tequila were produced by the bartender and quickly consumed by the women. Frankie sat hers down just as her mother walked up.

"Alexandra, I just spoke with Caitlyn and Ryan about Scarlett's present from you. They seemed reassured with the security measures you have in place there so I guess it is an acceptable gift for my only grandchild."

Alex smiled. "Well, I didn't make millions of dollars while guarding a Rugged Wearhouse or a McDonald's, Catherine. She and her friends will be perfectly safe. You have my word."

Catherine nodded as she looked over to Frankie. "Do you have time to talk for a minute, Franchesca?"

Frankie automatically reached for her purse. "Actually, Alex has a meeting across town, and we rode in together so … "

"That's fine then. Why don't you come by the house tomorrow afternoon at two? I should be back from the city by then."

Frankie started to say something but decided against using her first choice of words. "I'll be there."

Catherine nodded and smiled at Alex. "You be careful tonight." She gave Frankie a neutral look before turning to walk back towards the banquet room.

Alex shook her head as she deposited a fifty-dollar bill on the bar underneath her shot glass.

"Gangsta."

#

The women remained silent until Sanders merged with traffic on the interstate heading back into the city. "So, what was your clandestine talk with your niece all about?"

Frankie looked up from her cell phone. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me, Ford. You know I make my living for being a nosy bitch." Alex glanced over at her friend. "Is my god niece going to have morning sickness while flying over to Oahu next month?"

Frankie gave Alex a confused look until the hidden intent of the question dawned on her. "You have lost your damn mind, Alexandra Marie Sanders! Letty - you think Letty is _pregnant?!"_

Alex shrugged, her attention focused on the road. "Teen pregnancy isn't really a big conversation piece anymore. I mean, they still have a show on MTV about teenage moms and those girls are in their twenties. Hell, one was doing porn."

Frankie chuckled as she looked out the window at the passing overhead street lights. "Scarlett isn't pregnant, Alex. I can assure you of that. I just know her grandmother will wish that she was when she finds out what she's doing."

Alex gave Frankie a "come on" gesture. "Out with it, Ford."

"Okay, fine! Damn!" Frankie sighed in defeat. "She wants to be a Marine officer!"

The news nearly made Alex swerve out of her lane. She quickly corrected herself before excitedly glancing back at her friend. "You're kidding me! She's joining the family business after all?"

"She's still going to Stanford. That's never off the table. But when she breaks for the summer starting her junior year, she's going to OCS* to hit up the PLC*. I suggested to talk to an officer recruiter buddy of mine to gauge her options."

Alex whistled. "Wow. I - I am speechless."

"That in itself is a shock coming from you. But enough about that. Where are we going?"

" _We_ are going to see a friend of mine," said Alex. She passed two items over to Frankie. "She wants me to talk to a visiting vampire from out of town who may be up to no good."

Frankie looked down at what Alex placed in her hands. "Why the flashlight?"

"Ultraviolet light. Shine it on the card."

Frankie thumbed on the device and carefully ran the beam across the black card. Blue letters became invisible spelling a single word.

 _Lilith._

 _#_

 _* OCS - Officer Candidate School, the Marine Corps' commissioned officers' training regimen located at Marine Corps Base, Quantico, Virginia. The Platoon Leader's Class (PLC) is a portion of the regimen designed for college students with one or more years left prior to graduation._


	6. Chapter 4

BloodMeld Four

"This type of vampire operation has been around possibly since Los Angeles was officially founded," said Alexandra as she and Frankie rode an elevator at the Wilshire Grand Center. "From my understanding, it's moved around over the decades as the city expanded in size and population. Though I wonder…"

Frankie looked away from her reflection in the elevator doors at her friend. "Wonder what?"

"I wonder why we had to come here. Last I heard, everything was located at a mansion in Calabasas."

"A mansion in Calabasas?" said Frankie as the car came to a halt and the doors opened. "You haven't told me anything about this _operation_ the vampires are supposed to be running."

She followed Alexandra off of the elevator into a contemporary styled foyer with marble flooring. A petite young brunette in a dark sequin dress sat behind a small desk in front of a set of double privacy glass doors, the only visible entrance on the floor.

Alex turned and held Frankie up from approaching the desk. "It's not being run by vampires. And trust me, if I had just come out and told you, your cop instincts would have taken over. It's best that you see everything for yourself."

Frankie grimaced in frustration. "See _what_ for myself?"

#

Frankie sat in a spacious room at the bar completely speechless as she soaked in the sight before her.

A dozen women made their way around the room in a serving capacity. Frankie watched as patrons dressed in expensive suits and dresses reached for drinks off of trays several of them carried by the women as they weaved through the crowd effortlessly.

Frankie would have thought it was a regular party thrown by one of the city's wealthy except that the servers just as well be naked. The beautiful women were wearing little more than underwear meant more for a night of erotic pleasure in the bedroom than as a cocktail uniform.

The sound of laughter by the grand piano caught her attention. She looked over at one of the servers giggling as one of the men, a handsome gentleman with a somewhat pale complexion whispered something in her ear. She smiled over her shoulder and walked towards a hallway flanked by two burly men dressed in matching black shirts and suits. She stopped just past the guards and turned back to hook a finger at the man who smiled back as he hastened off after the woman.

Frankie turned to Alex and found that she was watching her closely with a grin on her face. "Well? I know you want to say something, Detective. Out with it."

Frankie leaned over close. "Did you bring me to … a sex party?" she whispered.

Alex covered her mouth with both hands, barely able to contain her laughter. Frankie shook her head and held up her empty tumbler to the bartender for a refill.

"You can be such a bitch, Sanders."

"Oh calm down." Alex fanned her face with a free hand as she regained her composure. "I'm not the resident expert on what goes on here, thank God. I much rather let the proprietor handle that."

Alex surreptitiously pointed to the side where a opened sliding door led out to the deck. A woman stood outside wearing a black sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline. A long diamond necklace adorned her neck which reflected brightly back into the room from where she stood as she spoke with a man possibly old enough to be her father. Her long brown hair was pinned up from her shoulders showing the smooth curvature of her neck as she laughed at a comment made by her companion.

Frankie could not take her eyes off of the mysterious woman who must have felt the scrutiny on her for she looked away from her companion and locked eyes with her. The woman stared back at her in silence for a moment before giving her a small smile. The woman took a sip of her beverage before returning her attention to the man beside her.

"Who is she?"

"That is Rachel Alston. She organizes functions for Lilith."

"You mean she runs whorehouses for vampires. No wonder they move around." Frankie turned to Alex. "And how did she get a spot here in the Wilshire? The lease here can't be cheap."

"It's the mortgage that isn't cheap," a voice to Frankie's left answered, startling her. "But trust me. I can afford it."

Rachel Alston stood beside Frankie with a kind smile, shrugging a white silk shawl over her shoulders. She displayed no indication that she overheard the earlier comment Frankie had made. "I hope I didn't startle you. Alex said she was bringing a friend. Had any trouble getting here?"

"Of course not." Alex rose to embrace the woman. "SanSec looked into offices here at one point, but I decided to go elsewhere."

Rachel smiled as she turned her eyes back to Frankie. "And who is your friend? She seems very … _interested_ in what's happening here."

"Rachel, this is Franchesca Ford of the Los Angeles Police Department. One of the finest detectives on the force, but most importantly, a very dear friend of mine."

Rachel shook Frankie's hand. "I guess you realize that there's a whole different world out there, or Alex wouldn't have brought you. I'll have my assistant bring us drinks to my office and I can tell you why I asked Alex to come."

She started to stepped away but leaned in close to where her lips brushed against Frankie's ear.

"And I can also show you the difference between a whorehouse and Lilith."

#

"He arrived at the Calabasas mansion this afternoon with no agenda except he was told to give my establishment a look," said Rachel. She sat in a black leather chair behind a long wooden desk with a tumbler of bourbon in her hand. "Pretty rare for one to come into town unannounced since the Rehnquist conflict, so I decided to give you a call. He agreed to behave himself until you decide to talk to him."

Alex and Frankie sat in front of the desk in high-back leather oak chairs. "Did you verify his identity with Detroit?" Alex queried.

"Wyatt Sanford." Rachel rose with a folder which she passed over to Alex. "I decided to keep him entertained at the mansion for now."

Alex smirked as she thumbed through the folder's contents. "What, you didn't want him all rampant here in the skyrise?"

"No, I didn't want him all rampant on _me_ again." Rachel turned to Frankie and gave her a sly smile. "He had me nearly naked in one of my private suites earlier today."

Alex raised one eyebrow as she observed the look exchanged between the two women. "Uh, I'll place a call with my team to give them a head start on this, Rachel."

Before Frankie could protest, Alex was out of her seat and moving to a side room. Frankie sighed with an air of resignation. "Well, I believe you wanted to talk about what really goes on here."

Instead of answering, Rachel picked up a remote and pointed it to a wide screen monitor on a side wall. It activated displayed a split image of several different rooms.

"This is the mansion Alex and I were discussing," said Rachel. "Look at the room in the top left corner. I'll zoom in."

Frankie rose, placing her drink on a coaster on the desk and stepped closer to the monitor. She saw a man and woman resting on their knees in the center of a four poster bed. The man was garbed in silk pajama pants, exposing his muscular but pale torso. The buxom blonde leaned against him as she kept one hand clenching a sheet wrapped around her body while extending her other arm out to her side. The man's lips slowly traced a path from her neck down to the free arm.

"You look at my associates here and the woman in that frame, you look at _me_ and the first thing that comes to mind is that I'm running a prostitution ring," said Rachel. She was on her feet and slowly stepped from behind her desk, her eyes watching Frankie as she stared transfixed at the screen.

"You know, I was just like Ariana once. Young, determined to make my place in the city of angels," she whispered. "We both came from broken homes and set off to find ourselves. And we both found ourselves as a part of Lilith."

Frankie gave a barely perceptible nod, her attention enthralled by the scene before her. Rachel stepped close behind her and braced her chin on her shoulder before diverting her eyes back to the screen.

Together they watched the man bring the woman's wrist up to his lips. He kissed it gently before suddenly his visage turned a dulled gray-white color along with his eyes. Fangs protruding from his mouth bit down into the woman's vein.

Frankie gasped at the sight, her hand instinctively reaching to her waist for a sidearm that was not there. She settled for finally realizing that Rachel was uncomfortably close. "What - what the hell was _that?!"_

Rachel smiled and pulled Frankie back from the monitor. "That is the form of sex someone like you who isn't used to the idea of a consensual relationship between human and vampire have, Frankie. When the true erotic experience is the taste of our life source. The common bond, the only source that sustains both of us."

Frankie gave her an angry look as she pointed behind her at the monitor. "Then that vampire is killing her, you bitch! You toss women up to be served on a platter like dinner?!"

"Now either that's the cop in you talking, or you're being just a touch Lifetime melodramatic," Rachel laughed as she thumbed the remote control. "Look closely at Ariana again."

Frankie fumed on the inside but turned back to the image on the monitor, now drawn out and centralized on the screen. The woman, in spite of what was happening did not appear to be in any type of distress. In fact …

She slowly turned back to her host. "She looks like she's enjoying it."

Rachel snapped her fingers. "And there you have it. She _is_ enjoying it, Detective. Just as much as Quentin is as he enjoys the essence of her favor."

She turned off the monitor and gestured for Frankie to reclaim her seat. "The vampires here in Los Angeles, they don't go gallivanting out into the city and feed off of humans like in the movies. So … cliché. But they still need nourishment. That's where the women of Lilith come in."

Frankie leaned forward to reach for her drink. "So … you were one of them. You were an … Ariana."

Rachel nodded, taking the seat beside Frankie. "I'm considered to be the best. Dozens of vampires have fought to a standstill for the pleasure of my company. It came to a point where I was able to provide a sense of exclusivity."

Frankie took a second to sip her drink. The expression on her face showed she was still not wholly convinced. "So this isn't a prostitution ring."

"Not at all!" Rachel laughed again. "Don't get me wrong. Behind closed doors, I'm sure the vampires enjoy more of the women here besides the standard feeding session. Of _that_ I have no doubt. It doesn't make us whores. Not one single dime ever exchanges hands here. Many of the vampires in the city that come here are the wealthiest in the city so they make donations to an established cause that has a verified online presence and distinguished reputation. All of my associates are employed through a modeling agency I partner in, and they all have other aspirations besides the finer things that drive women like marrying rich for one."

Frankie nodded. "And what about you? How did you come from … an Ariana to running this place?"

"A fair question. I myself have one of the rarest blood types in the world. AB negative. That was the primary reason why I was so wanted. It was a very lucrative opportunity and I invested my earnings wisely. One of the vampires who is a frequent visitor is also one of the most successful hedge fund traders in the country. He helped me turn a substantial profit so I bought into the club and named it Lilith."

"Well, good girl turns into successful businesswoman." A hint of a smile appeared on Frankie's face for a second. "But there has to be … another reason. You could be a model."

"Would you believe I actually wanted to be a vet growing up? I have six dogs and a parakeet at my house. Good way to start up a practice if I wanted to."

The women laughed. "I never had sex with any of the vampires, though they have tried. God, they have tried. But none of them ever forced themselves on me because they knew if one drop of my blood was spilled and one of them was involved, there would be hell to pay within the vampire nation here."

By now Frankie found herself very interested in Rachel's tale. "And … this is common practice? Vampires feeding on humans in an erotic setting like this?"

Rachel shrugged. "Well, the alternative of vampires feeding on humans is out there, but I don't think the LAPD is equipped to handle such an event, do you?"

Frankie shook her head. "Probably not."

"The vampires of Los Angeles go to great lengths to protect their anonymity from us." Rachel rose to her feet. "I provide them a safe, secure place. That's all."

The side door opened and Alex reentered the office with a tablet in her hand. "Wyatt Sanford, age … way out there. Originally from Washington, D.C., turned in 1902. McClane's office said that he hadn't hit their radar for the better part of a decade so … no clue as for why he's here. I had two of your body guards take him to my secret lair."

She glanced over at Frankie. "And speaking of vampires, it seems that Hayley and crew tracked down the one that broke into your apartment. They're shipping her there now as well."

Rachel nodded as she looked down at Frankie. "Well, it appears my job is done, ladies. I appreciate you coming by and taking Mr. Sanford off of my hands."

Frankie took Rachel's hand as she got to her feet. "It was very nice meeting you, Rachel," she said before moving to the door where Alex stood.

"Franchesca, please feel free to come back anytime," Rachel called out after them. "I would love to talk with you more."

#

The two women remained silent for the first twenty minutes of their journey outside of the city. Alex navigated the car smoothly off of the interstate before glancing off to the side at her friend. "Ford?"

Frankie stared out of her window, not acknowledging that she had heard her name being called. Alex smirked as she said, "You know, I think Rachel would sleep with you if you asked politely."

"What?" Frankie absently stirred with a sidelong glance at Alex before turning her gaze back to the window. "Oh, that's nice."

Alex shook her head, struggling to keep her composure. "And I bet she could get two of her girls to join in on the action. What do they call that? Definitely not a _menage a trois._ Kinky kinky."

Whatever it was that brought Frankie back to the present Alex did not know, for Frankie jerked her head around with a start. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I think the question, the first of two because it's the investigator in me, is what the hell are you _thinking_ about? You have been zoned out over there since we left the Wilshire. I haven't seen you like this since …"

Frankie half turned in her seat to give Alexandra a stern look. "Don't start."

"Which brings me to my next question. When was the last time you've been laid?"

"I am not having this conversation with you." Frankie adjusted in her seat and stared straight ahead. "None of your business."

"I'm guessing it was during a time of … great shock." Alex gave Frankie a sly smile. "Surprise. Anger. A ton of emotions rolled into one and you and some rando you came across just decided to say to hell with it and let those emotions loose for one night of as I like to put it, 'succulent unlawful carnal knowledge.'"

"Some rando?" Frankie rolled her eyes. "Obviously you don't know me well."

Sanders laughed. "Is that the only the only thing you took from what I just said?"

"What you just said was as obnoxious as a lot of other things you ramble on about." Frankie chuckled. "Seriously? Election night? Yes, I was pissed but sex was the last thing on my mind."

She fell silent for several seconds as she flipped the card Alex had given her earlier around in her hand. "What do you think about the whole thing? About Lilith?"

Alex did not answer the question immediately at first. "It's … very unique. Rachel is not your typical madam. She's very intelligent, has a business acumen that rivals my own … but very grounded. Down to earth. Easy to talk to."

Frankie frowned. "I wasn't asking about Rachel."

"I know. You were asking about Lilith. Well, Rachel _is_ Lilith. She handpicked just about every girl there and molded them in her image. Vampires are not all that different from humans. Some are actually gentlemen because they were raised in an era where it was expected to be courteous and gracious and throw out a "sir" or even a "madam" in every sentence instead of "hey," "what's up," or my favorite: "show me what you're twerking with." They too have expectations. Rachel has been around them for a long time so she recognizes that."

Frankie fumed as she sat in her seat. "Does … anyone else from the force know about this besides me?"

"I honestly don't know. Besides the human female cocktails she has walking around, the number of humans who are familiar with the operation should be at a minimum."

Alex pulled up to a red light and turned a reassuring gaze to Frankie. "I know this is all overwhelming but be patient with me for just a while. I promise every question you have, I'll do my best to answer. Deal?"

She held her hand out to Frankie. Frankie looked down at it for a second before grasping it with her own.

"Deal."

#

Hayley Simms and Harper Ryan stood side by side behind Samantha's wheelchair as they watched the video feed from the basement. The new arrival brought from the Calabasas mansion sat calmly in a folding chair as he conversed with two very large men dressed in matching black shirts and slacks.

Hayley spoke first. "The Archivist couldn't shed any light on why this guy arrived in L.A.?

"Nope. He's a mystery all across the board." Harper checked her watch. "Didn't say two words since he was walked in ... though the expression on his face indicated to me that he probably didn't want to leave Lilith so soon."

Samantha tapped another monitor with a finger. "Hey, shouldn't someone go down and help Callen with that chick?"

Hayley's eyes darted over to the screen. She saw the female vampire chained by her wrists, ankles, and neck against the basement wall. She was pulling her restraints to their full length as she attempted to sink her claws into Callen who stood just out of reach.

"As long as those titanium chains hold, she's not going anywhere," she said. "Why does she still have vamp face going on though? Can't she turn back … _human?"_

Harper shrugged. "McClane said vampires can change their appearance and hold it based on how much they fed. She fed pretty good last night with that one guy, but it's been nearly twenty-four hours so …"

The three women exchanged worried looks. "I'll get started checking the local hospital's databases to see if any unique arrivals showed up," Sam said quietly, sliding her keyboard closer.

Hayley nodded as the door opened behind her. She squeezed Sam's shoulder and turned with Harper to watch Alex and Frankie enter the house. "Nice outfits, ladies. I hope we didn't pull you away from anything important."

"I'm actually glad you did," Frankie said. She dropped her clutch on the couch. "I heard you caught my little house guest tonight."

Hayley gave Alex a surreptitious glance out of the corner of her eye. "Callen had a hunch and pulled the ones who were watching your place last night and decided to stake it out himself a hour later. He spotted her trying to sneak back in the same way she did before."

Alex gave Hayley a slight shake of her head as she walked around the couch to the workstation. "Any identification?"

"Working on it with the Detroit office," Samantha answered without turning her head. "I should have something back in a hour."

"Meanwhile, she prompted a wild thought we all had just before you two came in so Sam's checking the hospital databases online." Hayley pulled her phone from a back pocket. "I'm going to call the tac team to stand by."

Frankie glanced from Hayley to Alex and recognized the look of growing concern between them. "Uh, what's wrong?"

Alex sighed, rubbing her temple. "What's wrong is that we may have a mini vampire epidemic on our hands."

"Come again?"

"Your B&E expert might have turned a few people before she was caught so Sam is checking to see if any new cases in the hospital databases indicating wounds of a peculiar, unorthodox nature." Alex removed her jacket and tossed it on the floor. "If that's the case, they'll need to be taken care of first."

Sam ceased her typing and looked up at her boss. "What about our visiting vampire downstairs?"

Alex shook her head, biting back a curse. "Forgot all about him. I definitely need to get that squared away."

"Well, we're going to need you on this run, Alex," Hayley announced. "Airport crew is busy with four vampires in Oakland. It will be at least three hours before they're freed up."

Alex pursed her lips as she mulled over her plans. Her green eyes took in the room and its occupants until they settled on Frankie. The detective frowned.

"Uh, why are you looking at me like that?"

Alexandra Sanders smiled.

#

"I'm not feeling this, boss. Not at all." Hayley opened a tall gun safe and removed several pistols. She looked at the other woman as she placed them on the table in the center of the small spare bedroom. "You've got to do better."

Alex Sanders crossed her arms as she leaned back against the door frame. Free of the evening attire she had worn to Scarlett's graduation dinner and the Lilith function, she replaced it with a worn Marine Corps tank top and form hugging jeans. "Hayley, Frankie Ford is basically my carbon copy. She's a second generation Marine, awesome shot, holds a black belt in tae kwon do, and one of L.A.'s finest. Oh, did I mention she's a Marine?"

"Oh excuse me. I guess there was a verse in the Marines' Hymn talking about killing vampires that they leave out." Hayley turned back to the safe and pulled several magazines from the safe. "I'm just not comfortable with this, boss."

Sanders started to speak but was cut off by the door opening. Frankie walked in shrugging a leather jacket over a black t-shirt and jeans. "Still the same size since boot camp, Alex. I don't know how you do it."

"It's called drinking, Ford." Hayley pointed down at the weapons on the table. "Pick your poison. Sig or Glock?"

Frankie reached under her jacket and pulled out a .22. "I'm good. Though I suspect you have a little something extra."

Hayley slid three magazines over to her. "Silver tipped hollow points," she said as she reached for her ringing cellphone in her back pocket. "They won't kill a vampire but they will certainly hurt like a son of a bitch."

Frankie slid the clips inside her jacket as Hayley turned away to speak with whomever was on the other end of the line. "Alright. What do I do?"

Alex snapped her fingers and pointed at her friend. "Yes! Okay, you go in. Keep yourself position at a distance from Sanford. Ask him a few questions as for why he's here, business or pleasure, yada yada yada."

"Okay. Then what?"

"Well, we're pretty sure that he's harmless. Still, the vampire contingent wants every new arrival properly screened before they're allowed to run free in L.A. With your skills as an investigator, you should be able to make your own determination."

"Copy that." Frankie slid her weapon back behind the small of her back and adjusted her jacket. "What are you going to be doing in the meantime?"

Sanders smirked as she walked to a locker and pulled out a sniper rifle by the barrel with mounted scope and attached bipod. She slung the weapon over her shoulder.

"I'm going hunting."

#


	7. Chapter 5

BloodMeld Five

Wyatt Sanford glanced at his watch for probably the twentieth time since he was brought downstairs (nicely, he would add for anyone who would listen) to the basement. He thought about asking one of his sturdy watchers for refreshment but the faint buzzing of a cell phone stopped him before he could voice the question.

"I sure hope that's room service," he said, watching as one of the guards pulled the device from a jacket pocket. "I'm could eat a horse. Literally."

The guard smirked as he glanced at the phone. He showed it to his partner who grunted and they both reached in their jackets and pulled out handcuffs. Sanford's eyes widened as they went back and forth between the men and the shackles in their hands.

#

When Frankie opened the door to the makeshift cell, she found the handsome vampire shackled to the chair he occupied by his wrists. He smiled up at Frankie as he spread his arms as wide as the cuffs would allow. "Have you come to save me? Or at least show me where the nearest blood bank is?"

"Sorry. I think Starbucks ran out of your stock." Frankie glanced around the cell and grabbed a chair behind her. She spun it to where the back faced the vampire and sat down.

"So, Mr... Sanford, is it? What brings you here?"

Sanford placed his hands in his laps. "You're my interrogator this evening? Or a sample of Lilith's sent over by the vivacious Rachel Alston?"

Frankie fought to ignore the warm flush in her face at the mention of the woman's name. "I'm a L.A.P.D. detective. Now answer the question. Why are you here?"

Sanford leaned forward slightly in the chair and looked at her as if examining a rare postage stamp. He gave a small nod and sat back. "I'm looking for someone."

Frankie sighed. "And the girls at Lilith didn't cut it for you?"

Sanford gave a slight smile. "Oh if I had the time or a different agenda, Detective." The smile faded. "But the person I'm looking holds a more familial place in my heart."

For the first time Frankie detected a seriousness in the vampire's tone. "Is this person a relative?"

Sanford nodded. "Yes. Of a sort. Her name is Carlisle. Emma Carlisle. If you look in my shirt pocket, you'll find a photograph of us together."

Frankie hesitated for several seconds as she silently scanned the vampire before her. She sighed and rose to her feet. "Don't try anything funny," she said as she brandished her pistol. "I heard lead bullets sting."

"Sting?" Sanford snorted. "They hurt like a bitch."

Frankie aimed her weapon at Sanford's forehead as she took two steps towards him. Stretching forward with her left hand, she plucked a yellowed, crinkled picture from the pocket he indicated.

She retreated back to her chair out of Sanford's range before sliding her gun back into the small holster at the small of her back. She then turn the picture over in her hand.

A black and white image of Sanford and woman seated at a small table greeted her eyes. She could barely make out Big Ben in the background as the couple stared at each other instead of the photographer.

The woman, a beautiful blonde with her hair curled in a style popular with the early 20th century did not look familiar. She barely gave her more than a cursory glance. Her attention was instead focused on Sanford's image.

His hair was slicked back. The suit he wore was tailor made for his athletic frame. She barely paid it any mind as her eyes flashed between the face in the picture and the face of the man before her.

They were identical in every way.

"London, 1934," Sanford announced. His tone took on a reminiscent air. "We traveled there for the day. Beautiful little bistro a few blocks from the Tower. We wanted to see a play there. Faust, I believe."

Frankie's eyes diverted from the photo to his. She finally saw the sadness there. "She's beautiful."

Sanford gave a small nod.

"Yes, she is."

Frankie pursed her lips as she eyed the picture again. Finally she sat down in her chair and crossed her legs.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Washington. Around the time of the Kennedy Administration," he said. A small smile formed on his face. "I heard she was … extremely popular there."

"Did you go there first? Perhaps she decided to lay down some roots. Settle down."

Sanford shook his head. "Several of our kind who have lived there for decades told me they haven't seen her in years. She's disappeared."

Frankie looked down at the picture in her hands. She exhaled and started to ask another question when Sanford tilted his head, his eyes looking at the ceiling at a peculiar angle.

"It seems we have a visitor."

Frankie frowned, wondering who he was referring to as the door behind her opened. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Harper Ryan slide her head and hand inside indicating for her to join her.

She rose from her seat and made her way to the open door. Before she exited, she turned back to the shackled vampire.

"Don't go anywhere."

#

"Sam has a direct link to the Archivist's servers in Detroit," said Harper as she led Frankie upstairs from the basement. "She should have some information on this Emma Carlisle in a few."

Frankie nodded. She still grasped the old photograph of Sanford and the missing woman between her fingers. "Tell me more about this … Archivist. McClane, is it?"

"Correct. To the mayor and the one percenters of Detroit, Magnus McClane is one of the city's wealthiest land developers and entrepreneurs. He has his hand in a lot of things concerning Michigan. And he's also a huge Lions fan."

She stopped and halted Frankie with a hand. "But to the vampires all across the world, he's considered to be royalty. He's one of the oldest known vampires, definitely in the top three percent in regards to wealth, strength, and value to the nation. Highly respected. Valued because of the database he has built over the centuries in three different countries."

She indicated for Frankie to continue following her to Samantha's station. The computer tech had her cell phone to her ear as she turned her wheelchair to face the new arrivals.

"I will make sure she gets the message. Thank you," she said before disconnecting the call. She smiled up at Frankie as she placed the phone in her lap. "You have definitely become Miss Popular tonight."

Frankie frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll tell you in a minute but first thing's first. I sent Boss Lady info regarding an assault victim at County General with puncture wounds close to the jugular. She and Hayley are enroute now."

Harper gave an indifferent shrug. "Could be anything."

"I don't think so. Red flag popped up while I checked her charts online. Twelve degree drop in body temp over the past hour."

Harper whistled at the news. "Pure indicator of something vampirely. Is it just Alex and Hayley?"

"Xavier King freed himself up from the airport op. He's enroute to them now."

"Is this Xavier King from Michigan?" Frankie tapped her forehead in thought. "Average height, athletic, blonde?"

"That's him." Sam smirked. "Very nice piece of Marine eye candy. Too bad he's married. I guess you served with him along with Alex?"

"Yeah. I knew he wasn't gonna make the Corps a career with this rich uncle he had back in Detroit so how did he get mixed in with this?"

"I'll fill you in about that later. It will blow your mind." Harper gestured to Sam. "Were you listening in on the convo downstairs?

"I was." Sam spun her chair back to face her keyboard and brought up several items on her computer monitor. "Unfortunately it's coming from missing/presumed dead files. There's at least one Emma Carlisle found dead in New York. 1992. Another was a missing persons report filed in Seattle that is now a cold case but fairly recent. 2007. I ran a facial recognition algorithm using the pic our guest gave Frankie and compared it with the file. Not a perfect match, though. I'll keep looking."

Harper crossed her arms. "I'll get a hold of whatever connections we have in Seattle to see what we can dig up about the cold case. Now, what was the deal with the call?

Sam nodded, spinning her chair back to face the women. "That was a call requesting the pleasure of Frankie's company for a late night poker game and drinks … with Rachel Alston."

Harper's mouth fell open. "You're kidding? I've been attached to this outfit for months and never even seen the inside of Lilith while the boot gets an invite to get turnt up with the owner?"

Frankie ignored Harper as she looked down at the programmer. "Did … she give a reason why she wanted me over?"

"Nope. She actually asked for both you and Alex but I told her that the boss lady was out handling business. She was still insistent that I passed the invite on to you, however. If you weren't busy of course." Sam gave her a sly smile. "Which you aren't."

Frankie tiredly rubbed her forehead. "It's getting late. I have to get enough rest so I have the energy to get chewed out by my mother tomorrow."

"Let's not get crazy, Ford." Harper checked the time on her phone. "It's only eleven. What if I go with you? We can stop over for a drink, play a few hands of poker, and then I drive you home? You need a ride anyway."

Sam crossed her arms in a huff.

"I want to go."

#

Alex took a sip of coffee while powering up the laptop in her surveillance van. She made a bitter face and slid the paper cup from her as far as the limited space allowed. "Ugh. Hayley, how can you digest this swill? It tastes like shit."

"Suck it up, Sanders. That's a fresh pot." Hayley's amused voice sounded off clear through the Bluetooth in Alex's ear. "We were on a clock."

Alex glanced at the cup and shook her head. "You have officially lost your right to pack snacks for the van. I don't see bacon."

Her eyes moved from the coffee to the windshield as she stared at the hospital across the half empty parking lot. "I'm about up in here. Where are you?"

"Stowing my clothes in the nurses' locker room. I found some scrubs that I am seriously thinking about keeping that will help me navigate a bit more freely around here."

"Copy that." Alex turned back to the laptop and began keying in commands. "Stand by. Commencing on hospital security camera acquisition."

As she entered a string of commands on the laptop, a soft rap on the outside of the van was followed by a deep masculine voice. "Pizza delivery."

"It's open, X." Alex's attention remained focused on the screen. A separate monitor mounted to the van's wall in front of her came to life, displaying several camera feeds of the hospital interior.

The door slid open behind her and closed two seconds later. A young man with short blonde hair sat down heavily on a metal stool beside her. "What's up, Red?"

Alex did not answer for five seconds as she finished her work. Only when the display on her laptop matched that of the monitor did she relax and smiled at the new arrival. "Xavier Alexander King. How did the op at the airport go?"

"The quote on quote _op_ was a resounding success." King chuckled as he unzipped his black leather jacket. "The Archivist along with ten of his business associates landed safely at LAX and enroute to the Hilton where they will be staying until the football game between the Lions and Chargers tomorrow."

Alex rolled her eyes as her hands flicked a switch on a conference phone. "You heard that, Hayley?"

"Bullshit." Simms' voice carried a menacing air even through the small speaker beside Alex's laptop. "X, the man isn't even your uncle and you're sneaking him into town like a whore in the back door."

"The man loves his football. What can you say? He can't stand the vamps in L.A. and prefers not to even let them know he comes into town." He leaned over and peered at the monitor. "Anyway, I'm here now so what's the plan?"

Alex reached for her cellphone and slid it into her jacket. "I need you to go inside and back up our favorite Navy squid lieutenant while I hold down the fort in here. Are you packing?"

King patted the area underneath his left armpit. "Always. What are we looking for?"

"Sam hacked the hospital databanks and found a possible vampire victim. We're going in to either neutralize and apprehend, or terminate."

She turned to the speaker by the laptop. "You got that, Hayley?"

Silence was the only response to her query. She glanced at King who gave her a confused look in return. "Talk to me, Simms!"

Several agonizing seconds passed before Hayley finally answered.

"Fourth floor, Alex. Get to the back. I'm … following a trail. Wait a minute."

Alex and Xavier waited a tense long minute until she responded.

"Loading dock, Alex. Get here."

" _Now."_

#

Harper whistled as she looked around the reception area of the Calabasas mansion. "So, is there some sort of … special procedure we have to go through to get in here?"

Frankie considered the question for a long moment. "It's very complex. I'm talking trying to get into the White House complex."

She winked at Harper before walking up to a blonde woman wearing a black short sleeve turtleneck dress. Her hair was off of her shoulders and pulled into a tight bun. "Detective Ford. My name is Olivia. Miss Alston has been expecting you. Would you and your guest like for us to hold your jackets and purses?"

Frankie could almost feel Harper staring a hole through her. "Please." She passed her purse to the woman and gestured for Harper to do the same.

Olivia smiled. "I will make sure these items are secured. Also, Detective, for the safety and security of our guests, we ask that you also turn in any weapons you may have on your person. I promise that they will be secured and returned to you prior to your departure. I hope you understand."

"No, it's no problem." Frankie pulled her pistol from its holster, ejected the magazine and pulled the slide back. After snatching the chambered round out of the air, she held up all three items for Olivia's scrutiny before placing them in her open clutch.

"Excellent." Olivia handed the purses to another woman standing behind the reception desk. "If you would follow me."

Frankie and Harper followed Olivia down a long corridor. Frankie took note of the closed double doors they passed and remembered the video she viewed in Alston's office."Is Miss Alston having another party?" she asked. "I left her at the earlier party a few hours ago."

"It's Rachel, Detective. She's really not that formal." Olivia came to a halt at a set of double doors at the end of the corridor and turned around to face the women.

"And as for the reason why you're here, on Friday nights she hosts her weekly poker game. One of her regular attendees is out of the country but she likes to have a full table. Alex Sanders told her that you are an excellent player so she thought you might like to play."

A perplexed Harper held up a hand as Olivia opened the door. "Wait a minute. She really wanted Frankie here … _for a poker game?"_

She shook her head in disgust and looked over at Frankie. "You have the Uber app on your phone, right?"

Frankie grinned. "I'll see you later, Harper."

Olivia gestured for Frankie to enter. She walked through the door and turned back to look at Harper one last time before the door closed.

"Franchesca! You made it!"

Frankie turned around as Rachel smiled from her seat at a large circular table covered in red felt. Several leather chairs similar to hers were pulled away from it. A glass of wine and several decks of cards rested in front of her. "I'm happy that you accepted my invitation."

Frankie took in Rachel's outfit as she rose to her feet, reaching for the wine glass. A white off the shoulder ripped t-shirt over a form-fitting gray tank top with black leggings and sneakers replaced the black dress she wore earlier. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders, shimmering with every step she took towards her. "I see you changed."

Frankie looked down at her outfit. "A loaner from Alex. I would say I hope you don't mind but I think you really don't based on your clothes."

"Of course I don't mind." Rachel stopped in front of Frankie and smiled. "I like to relax and unwind after the parties I host but these Friday night poker games have been a staple among the vampire contingent since before I was born. The men and women who currently play haven't missed a game in nearly fourteen years. Until tonight."

She extended a hand out to Frankie. "The others will be along shortly as well as our bartender but I'll be more than happy to pour you a drink. Bourbon?"

"Please." Frankie placed her hand in Rachel's and allowed herself to be guided to a long fully stocked bar situated on the other side of the room. A mirror from ceiling to floor dominated the far wall behind the glass shelves supporting the various liquor bottles. After she took a seat in one of the red leather bar stools, Rachel released her hand and circled behind the bar.

"I understand that Alex put you to work tonight," she said as she placed a coaster and glass on the bar. "Were you able to help out Mr. Sanford?"

"There's a little bit of legwork that Alex's people are working on right now but it appears that he came into town looking for a long lost love or relative. He showed me a picture of them that was taken decades ago." Frankie watched as Rachel poured bourbon into the glass kept in a liquor well behind the bar. "The way it looks is that whoever it is may be dead and probably has been for a very long time."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Rachel placed the glass on the napkin coaster and slid it close to her. "Aside from the … undressing he gave me with his hands and not his eyes, he seemed very nice."

Frankie chuckled as she clutched the glass. "Vampire or not, he better be glad it wasn't me."

Rachel laughed and pointed at Frankie. "You're right!"

She leaned back against the cooler behind her and eyed Frankie as she sipped her drink. "Can I be honest with you?"

Frankie nodded.

"I'm really happy that you came by tonight." Her voice took on an embarrassed tone. "I knew that we would see each other again sometime down the road but … something just made me decide to call Alex's people and … just see if you would be interested in stopping by."

She leaned in close to prop her elbows on the bar, leaving mere inches between the two women. "I'm glad you did."

Frankie's eyes narrowed to slits as she stared over her bourbon glass at Rachel for a long moment. She shook her head and slowly set the drink down. "That fucking bitch," she whispered.

Rachel was taken back by the language. She push away from the bar, her face turning almost as deep a red shade as her long tresses. "I'm - I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," she stammered, moving to hurry from behind the bar. "Excuse me."

"Wait!" Frankie jumped up on the stool footrest to grab Rachel's wrist before she could retreat. "Rachel, I'm sorry. Please … come have a seat."

Rachel slowly turned her head to look at Frankie. When she saw a confirming nod, she slowly circled the end of the bar with her wrist still in Frankie's grasp and sat down in the stool beside her.

Frankie released her and took a deep breath, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. "So Alex told you about me … before tonight. She's trying to set us up."

Rachel did not answer. Frankie nodded once and looked over at her. "First off, I'm not mad. Not at you or Alex. I just wish that I could have gotten a heads up is all."

Rachel exhaled in relief as she fanned herself with her hand. "You're not mad? Oh thank God! I'd hate to think that you might leave or … not even want to continue to talk to me."

Frankie smiled. "I'm not mad. I'm actually flattered."

"Flattered? Why? You are simply beautiful. You could have anyone knocking down your door to be with you."

"It's not that simple. Not with me anyway." Frankie cupped her glass between her hands and stared at its contents. "I recently broke up with my girlfriend of three years. It was leaning … towards marriage but somehow we … drifted apart."

Rachel expelled a breath and drummed her fingers on the bar finish. "I … I'm so sorry. Alex failed to mention any of this! I would have never even initiated anything if I had a clue!"

"No worries." Frankie took another sip of her drink. "She … Marisol, she decided she didn't have the mindset to support a relationship. We've been broken up for a month now."

Rachel pursed her lips and shook her head. "Well anyone who leaves you is a damned fool in my opinion. But I hope you forgive me for coming on too strong."

"No, no it's fine, really." Frankie swiveled her seat to get a better view of her host. "But I have a question. How come _you're_ not seeing anyone? I mean you are - you're stunning! You should have your pick of anyone."

Rachel's face flushed red once again but nowhere near the crimson shade she experienced minutes before. She smiled as she swept a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Thank you for that. That is reassuring. The thing is that men and women, they both look at me and they see me as an object. A toy. Plaything. Someone they instantly want to take to bed and do whatever with. Not a woman with the business acumen of a freaking surgeon."

She sighed and stared across at her own reflection. "I'm the type of person who doesn't use my looks to my advantage. I want a person to see the other qualities I possess. I think you see that."

She smiled and raised her wine glass in a toast. "I'm sorry for my behavior tonight, but I have a proposal. What if we get past the awkward eyeballing each other stage and we start over? Obviously there is a bit of mutual attraction there between us, but … if you could forget that awful display of infatuation a few minutes ago, I promise to be on my best behavior."

Frankie considered her words for a long moment. "There's nothing to forgive, Rachel. And I would be lying if I said I'm not interested … because I am," she said. "But there's something else so since you were honest with me, it's only fair that I be honest with you."

"This is refreshing." Rachel smiled, lowered her wine back to the bar. "So, what is it?"

Frankie began to speak but was interrupted by the double doors opening to the suite. Olivia entered followed by several men and women. They spoke amongst themselves as they made their way to the table. A few smiled and waved at Rachel while giving Frankie a curious look.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel could see the bewildered expression on Frankie's face as she took in the vampires. She apologetically smiled at Frankie as she rose from her seat, pausing only to lean in close. Her lips lightly brushed against Frankie's ear.

"Welcome to my world."

#


	8. Chapter 6

BloodMeld Six

Alex navigated the surveillance van towards the hospital loading dock located at the rear. She could make out Hayley standing outside in hospital scrubs next to several wheeled laundry carts covered in sheets.

Behind her at the computer station, Xavier emitted a low whistle. "What's that for?" asked Alex.

"Hayley finally decided to grow out her hair a little bit," he said.

"Oh God, I am going to shoot you." Alex brought the vehicle to a halt and glanced over her shoulder. "Tell me we still own the cameras."

Xavier swiveled his chair back to the laptop. "Affirmative. Cameras are still ours."

"Upload the video files to our servers and then after that, install the file marked "darkness." Alex knuckled her seatbelt. "That will wipe those files from their drives."

In the glare of the van's headlights she could see the reddening stain swelling in size at the bottom of two of the carts. A hand protruding from underneath a sheet was visible, blood steadily dripping from the fingertips onto the loading dock.

Alex sighed and reached for her phone.

"I guess I better call a cleaning crew."

#

"Three bodies. One woman and two men." Alex looked up from the couch where she rested with a tablet in her lap. "And you're sure they were all from the morgue?"

Hayley sat on the edge of Samantha's computer desk with an unopened beer in his hand. "Yep. Each one of them were toe tagged and awaiting some … well, whatever they do down in the morgue. My guess is that our vampire victim made a full turn."

Alex frowned as she regarded her friend. "Are you ever gonna change?"

Hayley shook her head as she opened the beer. Beside her, Samantha viewed video from the hospital security system. The monitor displayed an image of a woman with short blonde hair set in a California driver's license.

Alex rose from the couch and walked up behind Sam's wheelchair. "Is that her?"

Sam nodded. "Boss, meet Tricia Evans. Thirty-two, works as a waitress in Oakland. Single child, no parents, no priors, but a ton of student loan debt. Hospital EMTs brought her in when she found downtown earlier tonight in an alley."

Alex leaned in to peer at the missing woman's image on the screen. "This is weird," she whispered. "There had to be fifty or sixty people on the floor with her. Why did she skip down to the basement?"

Hayley shrugged. "Maybe she was trying to fight the thirst."

Alex and Sam both slowly turned to regard her. "What? There are vampires out who are practically grossed out at the thought of draining a human," she said.

"Yeah. Just not minutes after the transformation process is complete. Those are suppose to be the worst ones." Alex turned away from her friends and walked over to the fireplace. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and slapped the palm of her left hand with it several times as she struggled to make a decision.

"Hell," she muttered as she dialed a number on the phone before placing it to her ear.

"X. Change of plans. This is no longer a terminate on sight mission." She looked back at Hayley and Sam.

"Apprehend and detain."

#

Josiah Quartermain sneered as he leaned back in his leather chair. He peered at the two cards in his hand and placed them face down before him on the table. "Another Bloody Margaret, Tomas," he said as he stared at the only other players sitting opposite of him.

Between two different tables, the other vampire players were vanquished over the course of the past two hours, mostly by his doing. The pile of chips and hundred dollar bills in front of him was considerable. Twice he played a role in completely wiping out participants' winnings, forcing then to vacate their positions at the table.

Quatermain considered himself one of the best at the table over the past few decades. He lost his share of Friday night matches but that number was significantly smaller than those of the others who played. Small fortunes were built with his winnings. He made sure any business doings he presided over during the week were concluded so that he always present. He was proud to be recognized as the longest tenured poker player by his fellow vampires. A force to be reckoned with.

So it perplexed him somewhat that not one but _two_ human women outlasting vampires were able to make it to the final table and the late stages of the game while the vampires milled about at the bar. Humans with piles of winnings, smaller than his but still of a substantial size in front of them.

Quartermain recalled Rachel Alston began playing on Friday nights a year after she began her employ for the organization now known as "Lilith." She proved to be an adequate player as she would wipe out a player here and there, but Quartermain would always take her out close to the end. When she bought out the previous owner, the first thing she did was to reassure him and the other regulars that Friday nights will not change. Quartermain appreciated her dedication and showed it by "throwing" a hand or two.

The other woman, the brunette who was introduced by Rachel simply as "Franchesca" was intriguing. Rachel rarely brought a guest player in for the game as she preferred to keep it intact and reserved for the regular players. The appearance of this human as well as the attention Rachel gave her led him to believe that there was possibly something more to them than meets the eye.

Once drinks were made and passed out and the dealer distributed the first hand, Quartermain paid the newcomer very little attention. She maintained a casual bearing as she conversed lightly with the other players but remained stoic as the competition were eliminated one by one.

It was nearly a hour prior when Quartermain finally heeded notice to the new competitor. He had just taken out his friend Kaci Stratus-Evers, claiming the largest pot of the evening. Franchesca folded her hand without even looking at her cards, something she did quite a few times.

Minutes later, she accomplished what no human who had ever played with him had ever done against Abigail Thurmond, the British shipping concierge.

Franchesca went back and forth against Thurmond, probably the second best player tonight next to him, increasing and decreasing her bets until Thurmond could not take it anymore and went all in. Quartermain folded his pocket jacks and watched as the human's full house with aces trumped the vampire shipping magnate's three queens. Quartermain watched Thurmond eyeing the human with thinly veiled fury as she vacated her chair while Franchesca pulled the pot towards her.

"Well played," he said. "Abby doesn't get taken like very often. I'm sure she's not liking that at all."

Quartermain casted a wary eye at Thurmond who watched the game from her seat at the bar. She caught the look as she took a sip from a silver chalice and grimaced as if the drink was not to her liking.

A beverage of a crimson color with green leaf like flecks arrived for Quartermain. He watched as the bartender dropped off another glass of wine for Rachel and a glass of bourbon, only the third one tonight for Franchesca.

"I note that you don't drink very much, Franchesca," he said after taking a sip of his drink. "Rachel always makes sure the finest beverages are in house for her human guests."

The expression did not change on Frankie's face as she glanced at her glass. She picked it and knocked back half of its contents. "I'm not scared of my bourbon, if that's what you're implying, Josiah."

"Not at all. Merely just making sure that you're comfortable is all."

Frankie gave him a nod. "I appreciate that but I thought that was her job." She glanced to her right at Rachel who sat two seats away. Rachel's eyes locked with Frankie's as she offered a kind smile.

And then he saw it.

It was little more than a smirk: one corner of her mouth turned upward. But it was the first change of expression he noted in Frankie's features all night.

And it happened when she looked at Rachel.

Quartermain's eyebrows arched slightly.

 _Something more indeed._

#

Xavier smiled at the image on his cell phone as he sat in the back of the surveillance van. "I hope to be out of here by tomorrow night but no telling what McClane wants to do after the game, babe."

Elizabeth King sighed as she pulled her long blonde hair over one shoulder. "I know you hate staying with him and his entourage whenever you go out of town. I just wish he could find someone else to escort him besides you. Can't your uncle talk to him?"

"Easier said than done. We've talked about this, Lizzy."

"Yeah, I know." Elizabeth gave a dismissive wave. "Subject change before I start cursing. What are you up to right now?"

"I'm actually helping out Alex Sanders in tracking down a freshly turned vampire." He heard a knock on the door. "And it's time to get back to it. Sorry, babe."

"It's okay. I have something to keep me busy on my end." She reached down out of view of her propped device for a second, rising to hold a cooing baby in her arms. The child smiled and reached forward as if for her father on the screen before her.

"Hey, Raleigh. Hey, baby girl," he said, waving his fingertips at the screen. His daughter giggled as she imitated the movement.

Elizabeth smiled at the screen. "Hurry home. We miss you."

Xavier nodded and waved once more for three seconds before disconnecting the call. He then reached for the van door handle and pushed it open. Two men stood outside dressed in tactical gear. One sported a top knot over a full beard. The other stood with his muscular arms crossed over his tactical vest. The overhead street light reflected off of his pale shiny head.

"Shane Keels. What's the good word?" Xavier stepped out of the van onto the sidewalk. "We found our missing vampire yet?"

The bearded man shook his head. "Trail led from the hospital through the woods out to the highway. Douglas tracked it all the way to the bridge railing and that was it."

The vampire beside him nodded. "She had to have jumped onto a vehicle below."

"That's my guess." Xavier sighed and tapped Keels on the chest with his phone. "I'll contact Sam and have her review DOT cameras."

#

Rachel squinted at the cards displayed before her in disbelief before tossing her cards to the dealer. "One day, Josiah. One day."

Quartermain slid his cards to the center and stretched to rake the chips towards him. "I believe you say that every Friday, Rachel," he said as he gave her a wink.

Rachel laughed and rose to her feet. "And we are down to the final two," she announced to the vampires still gathered. "Josiah Quartermain and Franchesca Ford."

She gestured to Quartermain and Frankie who kept their seats at the table. "We will tally up their winnings and refresh the deck so there will be a fifteen minute break before we head into the final round."

The doors opened behind her and two women stepped into the room, making their to the poker table. Frankie and Quartermain rose and met at the edge.

The vampire looked down at Frankie. "Whatever happens, Miss Ford, it was a pleasure making your acquaintance. I hope Rachel includes you in our game next week."

He winked at her before moving past her to the bar where he engaged Abigail Thurmond and Kaci Stratus-Evers in conversation. Frankie turned back to the table as Rachel directed the women in counting the winnings. She looked up at her approach.

"Impressive," she said as she reached over for her empty wine glass. "I've never won that much."

Frankie gave a nonchalant shrug . "Not too shabby, I guess."

"Shabby?" The surprise was evident on Rachel's face. "Do you even have any idea how much you won?"

"I don't even have an idea of how much was the buy-in. You never told me." Frankie reached down for her drink. "What is it, like a thousand or something?"

"Try half a million."

Frankie's eyes bugged wide open. Her drink paused three inches from her lips. " _Half a million?"_

Rachel nodded. "I took care of it so don't worry. Oh, you pretty much secured second place tonight. That's an even two million if you lose minus the buy-in Amanda has already pulled out of your winnings."

Frankie glanced surreptitiously over at Quartermain who kept up a conversation with the two female vampires at the bar. "He's that good, isn't he?"

"Josiah is on a fourteen week winning streak. None of the other vampires here has gone longer than two since I took over." Rachel tapped her glass with a crimson painted fingernail. "You want something else besides bourbon?"

Frankie sighed and looked down at her watch. "God, it's four in the morning. I should be in bed right now."

Rachel signaled to the bartender.

"Coffee it is."

#

Quartermain reached down at his chip stack and secured a handful of his winnings. "Raise one hundred thousand," he said as he tossed them to the center of the table.

Frankie glanced at the four cards displayed in front of the dealer. Her eyes flickered back up to her opposition and narrowed at the confident expression on his face. "You look like a person who feels this is about over, Josiah. You have the Ace of Spades, don't you?"

Josiah almost laughed. He settled for leaning back in his chair as he scratched his neck near the collar of his silk shirt. "I never kiss and tell, my dear. Especially during a game."

Frankie nodded once. She began playing with her chips, letting a stack fall back to the table from her fingers. "It's okay. I know you don't have it," she said. "All in."

The air of confidence slowly disappeared from Josiah's expression as Frankie pushed her winnings to the center. "You have folded five hands in a row before now. Once before the flop. Four right after. This is the first you've seen the turn. So you have something. Or _think_ you have something."

Leaving her two cards face down, Frankie rose to her feet and braced herself on the table as leaned across to look closer at Quartermain. "If you call and win, that will pretty much wipe my human ass out. Another big night for you."

She straightened and tapped her cards with her forefinger. "But you fold like how you have been doing, then I guess we have no choice but to go again and you just might miss out on … taking me out."

The conversation at the bar silenced as Rachel and the remaining vampires focused their attention at the poker table and the final participants. Quartermain regarded the woman standing before him. Frankie stared back impassively.

Finally Quartermain smiled and glanced over to the bar at Rachel who sat between Abigail and Kaci. "Where did you find this one, Rachel? She has some fire in her."

Rachel winked and raised her wine glass in a small toast. "Are you scared, Josiah?"

Josiah laughed as he pushed his chair away from the table and stood. "Scared? You must have forgotten who I am."

He gestured to the cards displayed on the table. "I don't think you have the Ace of Spades either, Franchesca. But with two aces lying there along with the seven of Clubs and King of Clubs, I think it's a moot point. I call."

He tossed his cards on top of the pot. "With my ace and king, I believe that's a full house ace high."

Several groans emitted from vampires at the bar. Abigail rolled her eyes and turned her stool back to facing the bar.

Frankie looked down at her cards. She sighed and glanced up. "You mind if I keep them face down? We're both all in anyway."

Josiah gave a nonchalant wave. "It seems like you know you're already beaten, Miss Ford. But I'll allow it as … a tribute to your stellar play this evening."

Frankie shrugged.

"Thanks," she said flatly.

The dealer took a card from the deck and set it aside. "And the river," she announced. Quartermain's eyebrows arched as the dealer slid the King of Spades on the table beside the other cards on display. He clapped his hands together in glee. "I think that's four of a kind, Miss Ford," he announced, focusing on Frankie.

Frankie's eyes were as wide as dollar coins. She slowly reached behind her for her chair and sat down. Rachel quickly slid off of her stool and rushed to her side.

The action caught the remaining vampires' attention. Abigail Thurmond turned her chair around to take in the action with her glass of red plasma in hand.

"Frankie? Are you okay?" Rachel knelt beside Frankie's chair so she could get a better look into her eyes.

Frankie's wide eyes turned to her. "I can't believe that happened," she breathed.

Quartermain narrowed his eyes at the women and jumped to his feet. "Let's see what you have so we can end this," he said, reaching across the table for Frankie's cards.

His mouth gaped open as he stared at the cards in his hand. He started to speak but no words could be formed. The cards slid out of his hands onto the table. He glared angrily at the two human women for several seconds before retrieving his jacket from his chair. He shrugged it on as he stormed out of the room.

The dealer slowly retrieved the cards. She glanced over at Rachel and cleared her throat before holding them out for her to see.

The surprise was evident on Rachel's face as she straightened. She reached for Frankie's hand and pulled her to her feet as she announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, this brings a close to our game this … morning."

She spared a quick glance at a still bewildered Frankie before continuing. "With four aces, she becomes the first ever human to win at our Friday night game. Franchesca Ford!"

#

Frankie stared at the briefcase before her and shook her head before glancing up at Rachel. "You're crazy."

"Nope." With a flourish, Rachel reached over and closed the case. "Six point five million. Josiah decided not to make arrangements with his second place share so that goes to you as well. Of course your buy-in which I staked was already taken out."

Frankie reached for her coffee. "How mad is he?"

Rachel shrugged. "I was going to tell you to vacation someplace hot, but Josiah knows better than to lay his hands on anyone associated with me. The vampire nation does not like it if I get angry."

She sat down beside Frankie. "So I have two questions: how did you do it, and what are you going to do with all this money?"

Frankie started to reply but stifled a yawn. "I'll have to let you know after a few hours of sleep. Right now it's nearly six in the morning. Do you hang like this every night?"

"Just about every night." Rachel secured the briefcase and picked it up by the handle as she rose to her feet. "I have to get some sleep myself. Get ready for the night shift. I'll get this secured for you. Olivia should have already called a car by now."

The women walked together to the reception area. Rachel passed the briefcase to Olivia and took Frankie's clutch and jacket from her. A hint of embarrassment graced her features as she turned around.

"I just want to say that I apologize once again for my actions earlier," she said. Her left foot lightly tapped on the shiny hardwood floor in an embarrassing motion. She looked up and saw Frankie staring at her intently and hastily passed the items to her. "If I made you feel uncomfortable in any way, that was not my intention."

Frankie shrugged her jacket on and opened her clutch. She withdrew her weapon, magazine and unspent round and held the bag out to Rachel. "I said it was fine. If I was uncomfortable, I would have left. But I didn't."

"No, you didn't."

"And I'm glad I didn't. Very glad." Frankie inserted the magazine and chambered the round as she spoke. "I made a new friend. And I'm leaving here as a millionaire."

They both laughed as Olivia cleared her throat behind them. "Ladies, the car is outside."

Frankie nodded. "I guess that's my cue." She smiled at the women and turned for the exit. Just before she pulled the door opened, she looked over her shoulder at Rachel."

"Remember I was about to tell you something before everyone showed up?"

Rachel nodded.

"Well, what I wanted to tell you is that I love your eyes."

Rachel watched as Frankie exit through the door. She watched it close behind her and slowly walked up to it. She started to reach for it but her hand hovered for the knob without touching it for a long moment, thoughts swirling through her mind.

"Uh, Rachel?"

She turned to face Olivia. The woman stared back with a perplexed look on her face. "Are you okay?"

Rachel glanced back at the closed door to hide the smile on her face.

"I'm … perfect."

#

Alex slid scrambled eggs from a skillet onto one of two plates on the kitchen counter. She replaced the pan on the stove and moved for a tray stacked with sizzling bacon and sausage. "Which one, girl?"

"Both." Sam pours coffee into mugs in front of her. "And plenty of each, please."

Alex chuckled to herself as she complied. She walked over with the plates and slid one in front of Sam. "You better enjoy this. I have a guy who does this kind of work for me. This is below my paygrade."

"Niles hates coming here, Alex. Harper and Hayley put him to work all the time." Sam picked up a slice of bacon and bit into it. "And he knows I've been wanting this awesome shower head installed. I swear, the things I heard it can do …"

Alex rolled her eyes as she sat down. Sam passed her one of the coffee mugs. "You heard anything back from X?"

"They're discontinuing the search at sunrise." Alex reached for a sugar dish. "That chick will be holed up somewhere under cover because of our sunny Los Angeles weather. They'll be back at it later this evening."

"I have facial rec on just about everything with a camera." Sam picked up a healthy portion of eggs with a fork. "If she decides to take an afternoon stroll, we'll know about it."

"Good." Alex took a sip of her coffee and made a face as she looked into the mug. "From now on keep Hayley from making the coffee. Please."

Sam grinned. "No promises."

Alex laughed behind her mug. The expression grew somber as she glanced at a manila folder on the table beside her elbow. "How sure are we on this?" She gestured to the folder.

Sam followed her eyes. "One hundred percent. I spoke with a friend who's a vampire associate in D.C. Emma Carlisle was killed in a fire in 2008. I sent him a copy of that pic and he confirmed it. I'm waiting on some digital files he's shooting my way. "

Alex shook her head. "While we're waiting on that, you and I have something to discuss."

"You mean BloodMeld."

"Yep. McClane is in town and I know he'll have some questions for me. Questions about why we're taking so long getting our team up and running to where we no longer need Detroit support."

"Understandable. However a lot of the vampires here are of the one percenter variety." Sam chewed thoughtfully on another piece of bacon. "But we do have an option for tactical support. Someone who is capable of taking Xavier King's place out in the field."

Alex's eyes narrowed as they locked on the younger woman. "No," she said. "Not just no but hell no."

"Come on, Alex! You know how good he is. He's one of the best out there. Even you said so yourself."

"And he's also a load of problems that we just don't need right now. Even _you_ said so yourself."

"And I also said if he had a purpose, a mission … a cause, he would be back to his old self." Sam sat back in her chair. "Remember our deal, Alex."

Alex raised one hand to still further comment. "I know. I know. Don't remind me."

Her gaze lowered to the breakfast she had prepared. She picked up a fork and moved the eggs around for several seconds before setting it down and shoved the plate away. "Now I lost my appetite."

The ravenous hunger she felt earlier had disappeared only to be replaced by a bitter memory of a time long ago.

#

The beeping phone on the nightstand beside her bed jarred Frankie from a fitful slumber. She opened her eyes and squinted at the screen for a moment before grasping the device for a closer look. The name displayed almost made her toss on the floor and cover her face with a pillow. She swept her hair from her face and connected the call.

"Hello, Mom," she said after engaging the speaker and placing the call on her chest. "What can I do for you?"

"Franchesca, I'm sorry to call you at a time when you must be awfully busy with work." The sound of a television could faintly be heard in the background. "I just wanted to talk with you about our lunch this afternoon."

Frankie was aware of the hidden statement within. _If you want to tell me something now is the time._ "Actually I have a moment right now. What is it?"

"Oh. Well then." Frankie almost grinned when she detected the hint of disappointment in her mother's voice. "I actually called to reschedule. I checked my calendar and realized I have a dentist's appointment this afternoon. Would you like to come by later tonight or same time tomorrow?"

"Tonight is fine," Frankie said, a little too hastily. She picked up the phone as she sat up and swung her legs out of bed. "I mean, I'm not sure of my schedule for tomorrow so I can swing by tonight. Is seven okay?"

"Seven is fine. I'll see you then."

The line disconnected. Frankie watched as the phone display switched to a picture of her and a smiling Hispanic female sitting side by side at a concert. She stared at it for a long moment before sighing, slamming the phone down beside her on the bed.

"Damnit, Marisol," she muttered. She pulled the phone back up and started to open up her gallery for a new picture but stopped when the text notification from a recently saved number caught her attention.

Smiling in spite of herself, she opened it.

#


End file.
